


The Inbetween- Part One

by DarcyFenn (GreenBird)



Series: The Inbetween [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Demigods, Demons, Dubious Consent, Enemies to Lovers, Fauns & Satyrs, Fighting, Fist Fights, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Minor Injuries, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Opposites Attract, Original Fantasy, Original Fiction, Original Mythology, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Succubi & Incubi, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, character whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:28:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24061357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenBird/pseuds/DarcyFenn
Summary: “The feathered deity hunted the evils of Lekrowse with the fire of a true zealot, and the demon followed in the shadows, entranced. The Children of the Angels were not exactly prone to socializing with the Spawn of Devils. They were definitely not known for their violent reputations and confrontations. The guardian was ‘slaking his needs’, violating the strict laws of their kind, and that alone was worth investigating.”Jorkaal the Rotkin is a piss-poor demon, barely worthy of the name, so when he is attacked by a holy guardian set on punishing the wicked, and breaking all their rules in the process, he cannot help but be intrigued.A story about good and evil and coming to terms with the space in between them.
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s), Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: The Inbetween [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735873
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	1. A Strange God

**Author's Note:**

> This is a piece written into my original fantasy pantheon. It is also very queer, mythical and somewhat violent. Mind the tags and please enjoy.

Lekrowse was a beautiful city: full of walls. They were built out of a large assortment of materials, at varying thicknesses and heights. The stone and brick were his favorite. He tolerated wood. Wood caught on his clothing, pricked his skin, and tended to creak when he passed through it. He wasn’t terribly picky; it didn’t much matter what they were built with: if it was a wall, he could make a portal through it.

Sighing contently, the demon pushed his way through sandstone, enjoying the way it scratched his legs and tail as he pulled them free. It was a warm night, and the narrow alley he’d entered smelled like sour stomachs and bad decisions. It was refreshing. To his left, a man stumbled from a doorway, hiccupping loudly. The demon smiled, his golden eyes glimmering at his good fortune.

Lekrowse was a beautiful city.

\- - -

Lekrowse was a cesspool. It was claustrophobic, its streets were damp, and its walls greasy. The whole of the city seemed to perspire, and not even the breeze rolling off its bay could freshen the air. It might have been cleaner in its more reputable neighborhoods, but that was not where the work was, so that was not where the guardian Soo-Hast was.

The night was young, and the deity had already been busy. He was a very good influence on mortals, and after convincing one man to stay in for the night, and a woman not to take another partner home, he was feeling fairly successful. As a Guardian of Self-Control, he had his work cut out for him. Lekrowse was a foul place; filled with bars, brothels and betting houses. He was getting his exercise.

Soo-Hast was not just out to make a good, godly impression on the city’s population. His true intents were more aggressive. It was his third night working in the city, and he had yet to run into a demon. Lekrowse was crawling with them, what with the amount of vice in the city, but every one of his nefarious relatives had been giving him the slip.

It was normal for their kinds to avoid direct interaction: guardians and demons were separate classes, and never amicable. He had met demons before, but it was always at a formal occasion. It was common courtesy for guardians and demons to give each other a wide berth, and fight indirectly: through mortals. A guardian and a demon could square off and influence their subjects, instilling goodness or poisoning with evil.

This passive interaction was cowardly. This was Soo-Hast’s first time in Lekrowse, and his first real outing alone. He was old enough to do what he wanted, and what he wanted was to find a demon and confront it directly. No games of capture-the-soul, no drawn-out social skirmishes. He would find a demon, and _physically_ beat them.

His siblings had been very against this: violence was a demonic practice, and should be avoided at all costs. Soo-Hast planned to be mindful, but he also planned to vent his frustrations in a positive way. Mainly, by besting the wicked. It was good to put some humility into demon-kind, and he was just the guardian to do it.

That was, if he could find a demon.

He tried to concentrate on the presence of other immortals. Normally, he could sense his own kind without problem. Demons felt very similar, but much more metallic, nearly acrid on his tongue. So far, he had absolutely no luck with finding any. Tonight would be different.

Soo-Hast wove his way through the tangled streets, careful to keep his robe out of puddles. He would have gone without it, but his black-scaled legs, bird feet and feathered tail were a dead giveaway of his divinity. Mortals got annoying when they knew you were someone important. He didn’t need that sort of attention tonight.

He was passing a lopsided alehouse when there was a strange tingle his psyche, and the slightest copper tang against his tongue. The guardian found himself turning into the alleyway without a second thought. Sure enough, there were two figures sitting on the sullied ground, and one of them had curled horns. It was looming over the other, and a strange, wet sound was coming from the both of them.

“Step back from that man.” The guardian drew himself up to his full height. The horned one startled, clattering back from the smaller, slouched figure. This was definitely a demon: it was half-goat in form, male, and very alarmed to see him.

The mortal on the ground gave a goofy laugh, head lolling back to stare at Soo-Hast. His eyes were glazed, but he was good and alive.

“What were you doing to him?” The guardian stepped closer, inspecting the drunk. Other than the obvious, nothing seemed wrong with him. He knew better than to believe that.

“We were drinking?” The demon held up a bottle as proof, posture tight. He looked as though he just might run away.

The drunk man made a noise of approval. Soo-Hast glared at him. “You will cease: this man has obviously had enough.”

“He decides when he’s had enough,” the demon snorted, confidence growing, “I’m not making him do anything he doesn’t want to do.”

“Hear, hear!” said the man on the ground.

“You will cease drinking, and you will go home to reevaluate your life.” Soo-Hast snapped, glaring at the drunken man. He blinked owlishly, but nodded, and began a slow crawl out of the alley. The demon started to go after him, but Soo-Hast squared his shoulders and made it quite obvious that he wouldn’t be getting past.

“As for you,” the guardian scowled, pointing at the goat, “you are a Demon of Overindulgence, and I will not allow you to seduce that man any further.”

“Seduce? We were drinking! Lighten up!” The demon stomped a hoof. Behind him, Soo-Hast noticed a heavy, long, snake-like tail. He would have to watch that when they got to hitting each other.

His prey seemed to be giving him the same assessment, golden eyes staring at the opening in his robe, taking in his bird-like legs and feathered, white tail hidden underneath. “What are you, anyway?” the demon scowled, head tipping.

“I am Soo-Hast, son of Maelakii,” he said, drawing a coil of rope out of his pocket and tying a noose, “I am a Guardian of Self-Control.”

“You’re fuckin kidding me. You’re a Prude?” The demon squinted as he took in Soo-Hast’s white hair and plumage and the characteristic black mark over his nose. His dark skin made the pristine features stand out in fine contrast. The goat was not pleased with these observations.

“I hear you swans are real assholes,” he grumbled. Soo-Hast took a step forward, rope at the ready. The demon’s comically large ears fell flat against his head. “Hey, now! I don’t want any trouble!”

“I am afraid you do not have a choice in this matter.” Soo-Hast rushed forward, lasso above his head. The demon made an undignified noise and turned quickly. The snake-tail was as dangerous as Soo-Hast thought it would be, and its weight was astounding. He managed to avoid the worst of it, but the hit knocked him off course. He whipped the rope at the demon, but the loop missed his head and slapped him on the shoulder.

“Ow!” the goat yelped, face pinched. “Is that blessed? What are you trying to do, kill me?”

“It will not kill you.” At least he was fairly sure about that. It was a mid-level blessing, and unless this was the weakest demon in the entirety of the world, contact with it wouldn’t kill him.

“What is the point of this?” The demon was keeping his distance, eyeing the rope hatefully. He hefted the bottle like a club, unsure. “You plan to torture me into good behavior?”

“I plan to soundly defeat you.” He feigned to the left, but the demon clamored backward. He’d need to get a good wind up if he were to lasso at this distance.

“If I say you win,” the demon tried, “will you leave me alone?”

Soo-Hast gave the loop a few good swings above his head, and let the rope fly. The snare caught the demon loosely about the shoulders, the goat shouted in alarm and dropped his bottle. The surprise allowed Soo-Hast to draw the rope tighter, and the demon hissed as it slithered around his neck. 

The goat was not stupid: his hands hovered over the rope, not risking further damage to pull it off. Unfortunately, the demon had quite the mass of corded hair, and it was shielding the majority of his skin from contact. Soo-Hast pulled harder, drawing the demon to him.

Closer up, Soo-Hast could get a better look at his prey. The demon was shorter than he was, and thicker built. His ears, like his legs, were furry and hircine. He had a scrubby beard and a bullring through his hooked nose. Soo-Hast wanted to pull on it.

“This hurts,” the demon offered, hands held in the air. Several pencil-thin tattooed lines ran down his cheeks. His watering eyes were heavily outlined, and would have been pretty, if not for the creepy box-shaped pupils. Soo-Hast had never liked goats. “It would be great if you left me alone,” the demon tried.

Soo-Hast pulled harder. The demon was within arm’s distance now. He smelled like oily pelt. “Perhaps I should.” He had been waiting for this fight for days, and he had not expected the first demon he met to be an enormous pushover. “You are a weak opponent.”

The goat thinned his eyes. “You are such an asshole!” One of the hands previously in surrender balled into a fist, and they were too close for the demon to miss. Soo-Hast had never been punched in the face before: it was an alarming experience. The warm gush of blood from his nose had him sputtering, and he lost his grip on the rope.

The demon wrestled the noose off of him, cursing colorfully as it bit at his hands. “That’s it!” he barked, throwing the blessed object into a nearby sludge of trash. He was snorting in rage, head shaking and hooves scratching.

Soo-Hast wiped at his nose, flicking the blood of this fingertips. Rope gone, it was going to be down to the basics, and he was just fine with that. His nose felt broken, and that was simply unacceptable. If this demon had ruined his profile, he very well might kill him.

“You want a fight, birdboy? You have a fight!” The demon flung his body in a clockwise spin, and the tail came up again. It was simply too long to dodge, but Soo-Hast managed to block most of the force with his forearms. The momentum of the swing spun the demon off balance, and the guardian utilized this, kicking out with one scaled foot.

The goat bleated as he fell, but Soo-Hast couldn’t follow up on the attack: the demon slashed his hooves at him as he lay on his back, teeth bared. The guardian backed off and the demon regained his upright position.

“I don’t even know why we’re doing this!” The goat was livid under the tangle of his hair.

“You are a demon, and I am a guardian,” Soo-Hast circled his opponent, fists poised. “I would think that this is obvious.”

“Not to ruin your idealism, but I’ve never been attacked by another guardian.” The demon managed to duck a quick jab at his face, but its counterpart got him full on the cheek.

Soo-Hast shook the pain out of his hand. “I’m not like any other guardian.” He reformed his fist, and dove towards the demon again.

Eventually, both of their knuckles were split and raw, and they shared a decent mix of blood. Soo-Hast was aching, but steady. His opponent had a beautiful black eye forming, and was leaking from the nose. The guardian blanched when a long tongue slipped out of the demon’s mouth to clean away the mess. It was far too large to be normal.

The demon seemed to relish in his discomfort, and lolled the offending appendage out for him to see, letting it dangle well below his chin. He could lick just about anywhere on his body with the ghastly thing. The goat flicked it at him.

Soo-Hast took the opportunity to punch him in the mouth.

“Oth fak!” the demon slurred, sucking his tongue back in. A new faucet of blood began to stream from between his lips. He must have bitten himself.

The hit was not without response, but Soo-Hast blocked the punches easily: the demon was disoriented and weakening. He would soon be down for the count: there was quite the considerable amount of blood coming multiple locations, and his stance was slanting.

“You’ve lost. Concede,” Soo-Hast huffed.

“I thried to do that earlier,” the demon groaned, glaring at him through foggy eyes. He could barely talk around the ruin of his mouth. “ba you woln’t ave it. Tho no, I wone.”

There was no way that the demon could stand another strike. Soo-Hast had won this. “I’m barely hurt, and you’re near your limit. I am stronger,” the swan preened, glaring contemptuously at the goat. “You’re powerless against me. You’re weak.” The demon twitched. “What can you even do?”

The goat staggered and pitched forward, and for a moment, Soo-Hast thought the demon was done for. That crucial second of indecision cursed him. He should have expected a goat to headbutt him, but it took the set of curled horns impacting just under his ribs to realize what imbecile lengths his opponent would go to.

The hit wasn’t hard; in fact, it didn’t even knock him down. The impact hurt, but it wasn’t as brutal as he expected from such a compact demon. Soo-Hast was barely winded. The most discomforting thing about the whole ordeal was how wide the goat was smiling at him with his bruised and bloody mouth.

“Got-tha!” The demon cackled.

Soo-Hast felt his abdomen tighten and his throat swell. A wave of nausea hit him so hard he didn’t have time to react. His vomit barely missed his feet. Over the sound of his heaving, he could hear the demon crow.

“’m Jork’l, thon of J’ki, ‘emon oof ‘iver Rot.” He bowed, bloodied face alight with joy. “’njoy your thtomach comin’ inthide out.”

Soo-Hast couldn’t bring his head up past his knees. His entire body lurched as he added to the foulness that was Lekrowse. He did not notice when the demon left: he was too busy vomiting.

\- - -

Jorkaal loved walls. Walls could be made into portals, and portals let him into the Inbetween, the space between reality and the Other. Creatures like himself used it to travel, and hid in it for safety. It was quiet there, tight and complex and dark. The blackness pressed in on his ribs and legs, stifling the pain that burned through his body. Others of his kind drifted in and out of shadow, and a few stared at him. One laughed at his obvious failure in defending himself. He did his best to ignore the jibe. He could handle whispers and stares. As a member of the bottom rung of demon society, he was used to it. The Inbetween was a place for demons, and even though he was the lowest of the low, at least he was safe from ravenous swans.

* * *

Jorkaal’s bruises had almost faded by the time he saw the guardian again. It wasn’t that he was following the Prude; it was simply the fact that he was haunting the same neighborhood. The guardian had taken to lurking around the Low Ring, and it became quite obvious to Jorkaal that he was not the last demon that the guardian was bothering: no holy being would loiter so willingly in demon territory. The guardian types mostly kept to their sepulchers and temples, and when they did roam, they did it mostly out of sight.

The goat first spotted him off of D’rail Way, an especially seedy side street near his favorite feeding ground. The swan’s plumage shone bright in the gray evening; he was the only clean thing in the vicinity. Jorkaal followed along in the walls of the adjacent buildings, evaluating the situation.

It wasn’t that he was bitter: Jorkaal was used to being beaten on. He was the youngest of his massive family, and not that strong. The demon world was an aggressive place, and casual fisticuffs happened. Sure, it never got as severe and was mostly posturing, but he was only a little shook up about it. Besides, he had won, hadn’t he? After a few days of excruciating pain, he’d recovered rather well: his tongue was still tender from where he had bitten it, but he’d lost the lisp.

The guardian seemed to have brushed off most of his injuries as well, but Jorkaal was pleased to note that his nose was still bruised. The stomach ailment he’d given the guardian hadn’t been very strong. After a few good vomits, he should have recovered quickly. Jorkaal was not very good at doing much more that causing minor illness, maybe slight cirrhosis if he really focused. It was more of an escape plan than an actual fighting move.

The swan-god ducked down an empty street, avoiding a group of patrons clamoring out of a whore house. He gave them a quick, pinched glance and tightened his robes around him. Jorkaal snorted: the guardian was, indeed, a prude.

As he made his way down the street, he passed close to Jorkaal’s hiding place, eyes downturned as he carefully stepped over scattered refuse. The demon could clearly see his white, downy eyelashes and the smallest cut on his perfect, pursed lips. A frisson of excitement prickled down Jorkaal’s spine. Seeing a guardian so close was rare. They were normally too bright and distant and incorporeal, but this one was near, and as his healing knuckles remembered, very solid.

The guardian seemed to be on the hunt again, and Jorkaal followed carefully. The Prude couldn't sense him in the Inbetween, but he kept quiet nonetheless. Jorkaal wondered which one of his cousins was be out this time of night. The opportunities were endless. His kin were almost reckless in the Lower Ring: it was a fertile demonic paradise .

As they took a small flight of stairs down into a darkened archway, Jorkaal felt the familiar brush of another demon’s power. He watched as Soo-Hast winced and licked his lips, obviously sensing it as well. Some monster was out on the prowl, and rather close.

She didn't really bother to hide herself. A gray-skinned demoness sat crouched under the eaves of a dilapidated building, just past the archway. She held a dead cat in her claws, and was idly picking at it.

Soo-Hast announced himself, and the monster looked up.

Jorkaal couldn't hide his wince of sympathy; of all the demons for the guardian to come across, this was not the ideal candidate for a fight. She was a Denkin: a demon of cruelty. Her face was grim, her cheekbones sharp and cut like shale, leading back into a set of spiked horns. By the feel of her, she was not a younger sibling. 

Jorkaal watched as Soo-Hast told her he was going to fight her. The Denkin’s black eyes sparked, and her lips pulled back to reveal a mess of jagged teeth. She dropped the dead cat to the side and slowly unfolded herself from her crouch, creeping down to the street. She was most certainly interested.

Soo-Hast squared her up, leveling his broad shoulders and holding his head high. The Denkin did the opposite. crouching low, coiling like a snake, teeth glinting. Jorkaal shuffled hoof-to-hoof anxiously, and waited for a bloodbath.

He was not to be disappointed. The thing about Denkin was that they tended to have very little interest in their own pain and wellbeing. All Denkin seemed interested in was causing agony to others. They were true sadists, relishing in pain and bathing in torment. All they wanted was to hurt, and hurt the Denkin did.

Within a minute of the tussle’s start, Jorkaal heard the wet, disgusting sound of flesh tearing. He moaned in sympathy as he saw a bloom of red stain the guardian's right arm, cut jaggedly by the Denkin’s nasty bite. She cackled at him, open mouth dripping, as he pulled away. 

Soo-Hast’s face was pinched in pain, but it only seemed to make him more determined. The guardian whipped his noose up where it caught the end of the Denkin’s horn and wrenched down violently, stomping on the taut rope. The Denkin was thrown to the ground, her head smacking against the cobblestone with a sickening crack. She made a low, pained noise that warped into a laugh, and struck out at him again, albeit with less finesse, courtesy of her head wound.

The Prude attempted to dodge her low swipe, but a claw caught his calf, ripping a gash in the muscle. He grunted and stumbled, but did not fall. Jorkaal was quite impressed: if he had been cut like that, he would be howling.

With Soo-Hast injured, it seemed like the fight would come to a rather sudden end. The Denkin advanced on him, taking a punch to the face without so much as a wince. The second blow glanced off of her cheek, and she twisted her head to sink her teeth in the already brutal bite she had given Soo-Hast.

The guardian fell to his knees with a groan, and attempted to jab the Denkin in the eyes. She squeezed down on the flesh in her mouth and an obscene dribble of blood ran down her chin as she held on. Knowing he was unable to free himself from her, Soo-Hast raised his free hand in a begrudging surrender. She hummed in satisfaction, and let his arm go. 

Jorkaal rubbed his own arm as he looked at the wretched mess she had made of the guardian’s. The demoness cackled with joy as Soo-Hast winced and drew the injured limb in protectively. Seemingly done with her deed, the Denkin retreated, and pressed herself into the Inbetween. She came in only a few paces from Jorkaal, and noticed him almost immediately.

“Rotkin,” she spat, wiping the blood off of her chin, “enjoy being a spectator, you little voyeur?”

“I’d thought to help cousin, but you were handling it very well.” It was best to be polite with her kind; the Denkin were a nasty family to get in the ill graces of. 

“Of course,” she sneered, teeth like shards of glass. “You'd not be much use anyway.”

“As you say.” Jorkaal dipped himself into a small bow, accepting and discarding the insult. Showing her bloodied teeth was a bit of a promise, should he doubt her judgement. His pride wasn't worth the mauling. He risked a glance up to find her looking out of the wall, apparently relishing the way Soo-Hast began to limp his way to the mouth of the alley. 

“He's a strange one, isn't he?” Jorkaal said.

“An absolute idiot,” the Denkin sneered. “Probably some aberrant son, useless and spoiled. Let’s all pray he learns this lesson.”

“I'm afraid you may have been preaching to the deaf, cousin. If he's as idiotic as you say, he will need several lessons.”

The Denkin rolled her eyes, and, appearing to be quite bored with the situation, slunk back into the labyrinth of the Inbetween. Jorkaal stayed, watching as Soo-Hast made it to the main street. He tailed the swan as he walked down the road, limping painfully. A trail of blood marked his passing, and his shredded arm was pressed tight to his stomach.

Jorkaal noticed that he didn't receive the same pleasure seeing the guardian sporting injuries inflicted by his kin as he did seeing him sporting marks from Jorkaal himself. He certainly didn't enjoy the ever growing blood trail. 

The guardian continued a few more paces before stumbling heavily against the side of a building. Jorkaal crept up next to him, watching as the Prude tried to gather himself. His lips were pressed hard in a thin line and his eyes were pinched shut, but he showed no further signs of pain. Jorkaal shifted uneasily hoof-to-hoof, wondering if he should do something to help. What that would be, he had no idea. 

Soo-Hast already seemed to have that already planned. He gingerly plucked a feather from his ruined forearm and traced it in the air in front of him, whispering a name. The air flashed white, and another being stepped into reality.

“My, but you are a fool,” the being said, voice mild and disapproving. A golden-skinned woman stood before him, hair a white sheet down her shoulders. Long, clean pinions adorned her arms: another swan. 

“I don't think I will be able to walk to a temple.”

The newcomer sighed, a put-upon sibling. “I have told you this would happen, Soo-Hast. There are other ways to slake your needs..”

“Help me or don't. No lectures are wanted.” Soo-Hast snipped, obviously irritated. He straightened his back, pulling himself off the wall. 

His sister sighed again and held out one delicate hand. Soo-Hast’s bloody palm pressed into it. She looked slightly ill at the sight of it. 

“Come, then.”

The air shimmered and warped and they were gone. Jorkaal chewed his lip for a moment, lingering. It was slightly disturbing to him, the fact that he felt a quiver of worry. He had no reason, no obligation to worry. It was not his affair. 

The guardian’s blood had formed a rusty puddle in the street. The demon watched it until it was soaked into the packed earth.

* * *

It was several days before he saw the swan again. He wanted to tell himself he wasn’t looking for him, but he's also painfully self-aware. After the mess with the Denkin, Jorkaal worried that the guardian had quit his crusade. It would have been smart, but the swan seemed too stubborn to give in to an injury. Jorkaal was not looking for the guardian; he simply happened to find him leaving a small temple the demon had been carefully watching on a bordering neighborhood. 

Soo-Hast’s posture showed purpose, and his walk was assertive. It was obvious he was ready for another fight. Jorkaal thought about the cage matches he'd seen with other demons for sport, how the fighters would exude a similar feeling before their matches; the guardian was on the warpath. 

Soo-Hast was strong and quick and clever, but Jorkaal had beaten him- or, at least, he considered their first fight a win on his part. He'd had the guardian heaving and gagging, paralyzed with retching. He wondered if he could do it again. The bruises had been unpleasant but the exhilaration had been addictive.

Jorkaal followed the guardian down the street, sliding from one wall to the other like a shadow. He was skilled at moving in the Inbetween, more so than most, so hunting the swan was easy. Soo-Hast took a sharp turn down a side street, eyes shining bright in the dark, looking for a challenge. Jorkaal nearly shivered at the frustration and determination on the Prude’s face. How could someone created to instill control feel so wild and tense?

It was a lure he wasn't keen on resisting.

The decision to step out of the wall was a rash, and quite honestly, stupid one. Jorkaal accepted it all the same. Soo-Hast’s state was contagious, and Jorkaal had to try again. He wanted to fight. He had to see what this oddity was all about.

Jorkaal set his shoulders and cleared his throat. “Hey.”

The guardian turned with a twirl of linen and feathers. There was more light now than there had been at their first meeting, and Jorkaal was startled by how sharp his eyes were. The fog of the Inbetween muted the bright blue-green of the guardian's irises. There was a flash of recognition in them.

“You,” the Prude tensed, winding his golden rope through long fingers, “you’re the Rotkin from weeks ago.”

Jorkaal felt a thrill rush up his spine at being remembered, and smiled. “Yup, Rotkin Jorkaal.” He nodded in the slightest bow and enjoyed the confusion that cinched at the guardian’s brow.

“Why are you here?”

The demon widened his stance and squared his shoulders, bringing his fists up chest level. He watched as the guardian did the same, lasso at the ready.

“I’m here for a rematch.” Jorkaal swung his tail back and forth, reveling in the excitement. This would hurt, but it was all he’d been able to think about. Their encounter had been bizarre and violent and _fun_ , despite his injuries. He couldn’t help but think he could do even better if he had time to prepare for it. Jorkaal simply had to fight the aberrant deity again. “You game?”

His answer came as a fist swung at his face. Soo-Hast missed by a hair, and Jorkaal ducked and jabbed, catching him poorly in the ribs. The guardian's knee came up fast and knocked Jorkaal back with a hard strike to his chest. He coughed and spun, tail tangling the swan’s feet and sending him rolling to the ground.

Jorkaal had one moment of victory before Soo-Hast was up again, hair tousled and face pulled into a scowl. Jorkaal bleated in surprise as the lasso whipped out at him, glancing over his forearm, leaving a raw ache on his skin. The blessing seemed stronger now: he would have to be extra careful.

Jorkaal’s hooves sent a smart staccato echoing down the corridor as he dodged another strike, dancing a semicircle around the swan. Soo-Hast was strong, but he was slight: if Jorkaal could get close enough to use his own weight to upset him, he might stand a better chance if they progressed to wrestling. The rope was a problem, to be sure, and the demon needed it gone.

Jorkaal ducked the next swing of the rope, but not completely. The lasso tangled on the hook of one horn and Jorkaal wrenched his head to the side, forcing the swan into close proximity. The rope was harmless against the hard bone of his horn and the matted cords of his hair, and the sudden movement had brought the swan within his shorter reach.

Jorkaal nearly crowed in victory as he landed a well-weighted punch directly to the guardian's face. A spatter of blood burst from Soo-Hast’s lip as his head snapped back, causing him to stumble backwards.

Unfortunately for Jorkaal, the rope slipped free from his horn, still held tight in its master’s hand. Soo-Hast staggered, dazed, and planted his feet wide. In retrospect, this was when Jorkaal should have rammed into him for all of his worth, but the demon was too caught up in relishing the dribble of blood sliding down the guardian’s chin.

His moment of hesitation allowed Soo-Hast to recover, and he swan advanced angrily, rope at the ready.

Jorkaal sputtered and tried to meet him, swinging his fist upward to knock the guardian in the chin. Soo-Hast leaned away from it, and the rope was suddenly there, falling down onto the demon’s rising fist.

The noose fell over his hand and Jorkaal jerked back, trying to keep it from closing on him. Soo-Hast was faster, and the demon nearly screamed as the rope made bare contact around his wrist, binding tight. The harsh freeze of the blessing was intense, and Jorkaal felt his knees weaken. Desperately, he struck out with his free hand, landing a loose punch to the guardian’s torso. He attempted to pour some illness into it, even a slight nausea, but the hit was sloppy and weak.

Soo-Hast huffed at the slight sting of a curse and brought his own hand back. Jorkaal watched in horror as the guardian made a Sign of Blessing with his fingers. An aura clung to the guardian’s hand and Jorkaal tried to brace himself for what was going to happen next.

When Soo-Hast struck him, everything went white. When he came around again he was on the ground with a burning weight crushing his chest as the blessing drilled into his bones, compressing his sternum with the pressure of a sledge hammer. His own scream was jarring and broken, pushed out of him as if he were a collapsing bellows.

The pain was horrific, but the holy aspect of the injury was worse. He could feel it carving runes into his ribs, freezing his demon blood with divine purpose. Jorkaal gasped wetly, and tried to curl in on himself when he realized he was still caught tight by the noose. Soo-Hast stood over him, rope in hand, watching his handiwork.

Jorkaal was an idiot. He was nowhere near strong enough for this. The guardian was insane. Jorkaal was going to be unconscious in a few seconds and the swan was going to truss him up with that frigid rope. He was going to either exorcise or kill him. The demon writhed and gasped, tears running down his face as he felt the blessing crack his bones and the rope bite into his wrist. He tried to think of a counter-curse, but the litany that tumbled from his mouth was garbled and bastardized. It did nothing to aid him.

The guardian watched him writhe on the ground, face severe. Jorkaal couldn’t even crawl away, tethered like he was. The demon quailed as the Prude suddenly kneeled and grabbed his arrested wrist, pulling it towards him.

Jorkaal expected his hand to come off, but instead he found it free. The guardian cast the rope behind him, then laid his palm heavily on the demon’s chest, now blue-black with bruising. Jorkaal sobbed in sudden relief as the blessing lifted, leaving a cold shock in its wake.

He was distantly aware he was shaking and crying on the ground, and that that must have been a very pathetic sight indeed, but he couldn’t care less at the moment.

Soo-Hast stayed kneeling next to him, watching Jorkaal recover. His sharp eyes flickered over Jorkaal’s face and down to his chest, not quite admiring his work, but certainly cataloguing it with interest.

“Are we through?” the guardian asked, voice a bit quieter and less gloating than Jorkaal expected. The answer was of course obvious; Jorkaal was in no condition to fight.

If there was one trait Jorkaal shared with a goat that wasn’t cosmetic, it was stubbornness. “No,” he gasped, wiping his eyes furiously, “fuck. Just give me a minute.”

Surprisingly, Soo-Hast seemed keen to do just that. He stood up and gave Jorkaal space to roll himself onto his knees. The demon took a quick moment to recall a simple invocation to his cousins, the Bone-rots. Rotkins had one wonderful feature: because of their kinship with illness and injury, they possessed the ability to mend their physical forms. Jorkaal was in the favor of the Bone-rots, and his ribs were cinched and sewed together with relative, yet painful, ease. After a few moments, the last gap in his sternum filled, and he breathed a deep sigh of relief. The ache remained, but the bones wouldn’t shatter. He didn’t bother trying to evoke his more fickle relatives, the Flesh-rots, to mend his bruises. They were awful when you owed them favors.

Jorkaal groaned unabashedly as he stood, feeling all of the new aches settle into his body. He was in pain and irritated and a bit embarrassed, actually.

“I think you may have overestimated my ability to withstand blessings,” Jorkaal wheezed, flapping one hand at the guardian, “and I may have bit off more than I can chew.”

The guardian was watching him with a contemplative look. He had stepped back, giving Jorkaal space for recovery, but was not at ease. “So, why continue with this?”

“Because I’m an idiot,” Jorkaal admitted, lunging in and swiping low. His knuckles barely missed the guardian’s abdomen as he dodged, and they were at it again. 

The swan seemed fascinated, his battle-rage bled out in favor of confusion and curiosity. He blocked hits easily, but returned them with calculated force. Jorkaal was only mildly irritated that Soo-Hast was not striking at his obvious weak points, favoring instead to land blows to his limbs and head rather than his tender torso.

The demon knew he was tiring quickly and would be unable to fight soon, but he worked through the exhaustion and pain, landing two more smart hits with his tail and hoof.

The fight ended almost clumsily, with Soo-Hast nearly tripping on Jorkaal’s tail and slamming into him, hand closing tight on the demon’s throat. The guardian was smart enough to hold him away from the wall, not risking Jorkaal slipping into it.

Jorkaal stood there awkwardly, breath cut off from a vice grip, held up to the swan’s height, nearly on his hooftips. The demon hurt all over and was tired enough to sleep for a week. He was done.

“Mercy!” Jorkaal gagged, letting his arms fall lax to his sides, “I give!”

The demon was surprised when he was dropped back to sturdier footing.

“You cede?” The swan asked, stepping back. His eyebrows rose up to nearly vanish under his perfect quaff of hair.

Jorkaal coughed dryly and nodded, wiping sweat from his brow. “Whatever, yeah. Sure.”

Soo-Hast stood there awkwardly, looking as if Jorkaal had taken all of the air out of his sails. This wasn't how his victories normally ended, that much Jorkaal was aware of. The guardian usually knocked his opponent out or they fled on him.“Well,” the swan said, “do you repent?”

That startled a bleat of a laugh out of Jorkaal. How utterly ridiculous. “No way,” he wheezed, face split with a wide grin. “That’s what you want?”

The swan had it in him to look slightly embarrassed. Jorkaal latched onto it.

“Oh, please,” he begged, voice reedy and pathetic, “ please forgive me for my demonic nature, I beseech you, just don’t hit me again!”

The guardian sputtered, caught completely wrong-footed by the teasing. Jorkaal gave him the slightest of mercies and waved the jibe away, taking a more serious tone.

“No, of course I can’t tell you I’m sorry for being what I am. I don’t exactly have a choice, do I?” The demon rubbed at his wrist carefully, trying to soothe the injured skin. The flesh still felt icy to the touch. “I can say that I surrender and I am very tired and sore. Well done.”

Soo-Hast sniffed and thumbed at the line of blood down his chin. He glanced at the smear on his finger and nodded. “I suppose that’s acceptable.”

With the adrenaline wearing off, Jorkaal began to feel how achey he truly was. He would need to retreat and nurse himself for a bit, maybe go wallow in his father’s lair and be babied by him, then have a long, hard sleep. Under the pain and exhaustion, however, was a feeling of satisfaction. An itch had been scratched.

“Well,” he said, backing up to the nearest wall and running his palm over it, “thanks for the entertainment. Good night.” Jorkaal felt the surface give way under his influence as the portal formed.

Soo-Hast shot him a strange look. Not irritated or creeped out, but as if he was trying to solve a strange riddle with the demon’s words.

After Jorkaal slipped into the bricks of the wall, before the portal shut completely, he could have sworn he heard the swan mutter a confused “good night”.

* * *

Jorkaal knew the meaning of irony, and although the fact that he was now regularly stalking his assailant wasn’t exactly ironic, it was very close. As soon as he was able to move about, he found himself following Soo-Hast yet again.

He didn’t like to think he was obsessed with the overly-aggressive guardian, but curiosity was a killer. The Children of the Angels were not exactly prone to socializing with the Spawn of Devils. They were definitely not known for their violent reputations. The guardian's sister had said he was ‘slaking his needs’, and that alone was a mystery to investigate.

The Prude didn’t look as though he had been phased by their encounter at all, and was continuing his battle with fervor. The feathered deity hunted the demons of Lekrowse with the fire of a true zealot, and the goat followed in the shadows, entranced.

Jorkaal watched as the guardian lay into a demon he knew down near the docks, slamming his head so hard off the planks he heard his teeth rattle. He witnessed the swan choke a succubus to unconsciousness right outside of a hotel with a crowd of mortals looking on. He saw Soo-Hast whip a sloth demon into repentance. It was almost surreal. The biggest problem Jorkaal noticed was that the guardian didn't exactly fight with consenting demons every time. Some of his kin agreed to a match, happy for a fight and just as amused and confused as Jorkaal himself had been, but like their first fight, Soo-Hast didn't back down when the other demon declined. In demon law, that was a very severe crime.

Jorkaal knew that would cause a stir: there hadn’t been a cross-moral assault in decades. The Inbetween was buzzing with whispers and curses as his beaten cousins drug themselves back into darkness to lick their wounds.

Of course, the swan only seemed to be picking on lower levels like himself, his lesson from the Denkin well-learned. She had been far too strong of an opponent. Jorkaal had the feeling that things would be changing soon; one couldn’t go about beating up on little demons and not expect their bigger, badder brothers to get involved. It seemed like Soo-Hast was alone in his endeavors. His only support being the sibling he had called to drag him to a healing shrine. He had no one to defend him, no higher power to evoke in defense. This would end in an ugly manner.

Jorkaal followed behind, hidden in the darkness of the Inbetween, watching the guardian crusade against all things perceived as decadent. The demon would press his face near the wall and see beyond it, see the swan hard at work against the world.

The demon wanted to step from the shadows, to cross him again. It wasn’t for the sake of the fight. It wasn’t for pride. Jorkaal simply wanted to talk to him. Soo-Hast seemed to revel in the violence of a confrontation, the very thing he was created to resist. The guardian was an anomaly, and Jorkaal was fascinated by that. Jorkaal himself was an outlier of his family; often seen as a strange, soft monster- too gentle and calm for his ancestry. Jorkaal wanted to get closer to the guardian, but he had a feeling that a punch to the face would be the closest he could ever get.

* * *

Everything changed the day Harome made an appearance.

Jorkaal was doing the usual; lurking on the edge of the Inbetween, watching the guardian parade about the city. Soo-Hast had preached to the patrons of a whorehouse and thoroughly beaten a young greed-demon in the middle of the marketplace. It was a successful day for the swan, but the evening was winding down. Jorkaal was considering leaving his stalkee alone when the air in the Inbetween suddenly tightened.

Another demon slipped in next to Jorkaal, and the goat bowed the instant he recognized him.

Harome was an Incubus-Lord: the third eldest in his house. He was tall, midnight blue, and very, very handsome. He was also a complete terror. The Cubi were an awful clan to cross: dreadfully loyal and horrifically cruel. They enjoyed both psychological and physical torment when it came to revenge, and a guardian assaulting a young succubus was not to be ignored. A renegade swan would have to be dealt with.

The Cubi sent Harome.

“This is the one, then? The Child of Abstinence?” The incubus’s voice was fluid and dark. Jorkaal tried not to stare at him. The demon was wearing his handsome mask: his face was sculpted and flawless. Under it, something chewed and gnashed with needle teeth.

“This is the Son of Maelakii,” Jorkaal offered, his heart quickening. He knew what was going to happen.

The wall before them warped and wavered, and the incubus pushed out into the world. “No worries little one,” the monstrous demon said, “he’ll not hurt you again.”

Before Jorkaal could even contemplate a way to stop him, the incubus was out and headed towards Soo-Hast, his smoky wings filling the entire street.

This was not going to be pleasant.

\- - -

The burst of copper in Soo-Hast’s mouth was intense enough for him to gag. A demon had surfaced near him, and by the taste, it was extraordinarily strong. The swan didn’t even need to look for him; all he had to do was turn around.

“You’re the boy causing problems?”

Soo-Hast had never met an Incubus-Lord, but he didn’t need to be introduced. It was obvious that the being taking up the street before him was a top-level demon. The very atmosphere around him warped at his manifesting. The swan had no qualms about taking a step back. “I can’t be sure what you mean.”

“You’ve been attacking demons.”

“Challenging and overcoming them, yes,” Soo-Hast said, straightening his shoulders. He risked a glance around him, and was pleased to note that any stray mortals had holed themselves up in the closest shelter. He wanted to keep collateral damage to a minimum. The fact that the demon had chosen a main street in the height of the day to challenge him in spoke volumes onto itself: he was planning on humiliating Soo-Hast.

The incubus smiled. His teeth were chips of perfect porcelain. “You gave my little sister quite the nasty burn,” he said, eyes resting on the lasso Soo-Hast already had in hand. “You won’t be hurting me with that rope of yours, boy.” The incubus spread his wings full distance, touching both sides of the street with the span. “Did you think that you would get away with something like that?”

Soo-Hast was stuck with the slightest dilemma. There was absolutely no chance of someone of his level defeating an older high class: he was obviously outmatched. He was aware that the Cubi were strict traditionalists on demon codes of conduct, though he didn’t exactly know what those codes were. If he made a formal apology and an offering, he might keep his beating to a few broken bones. This, however, would most likely require a good deal of crawling and begging. In public. In the daylight.

Soo-Hast did not crawl, and he most certainly did not beg.

Really, this had a singular outcome. “When one offers up challenges, one expects to eventually be defeated,” the swan said.

Harome laughed, obviously pleased with the show of bravery. “You’ll be more than defeated, little bird. I’ll have my fun with you.”

Soo-Hast stiffened, and a very real shock of fear pricked him between his shoulders. Surely he was not suggesting he would attack Soo-Hast like that? Even a demon understood the absolute indecency of that idea. “You’d violate a guardian?”

The incubus shrugged. On him, the harmless gesture played like a legitimate threat. “It’s not normal practice, but you’re the one who started breaking the rules.”

The swan scowled. Yes, he was breaking a taboo, but it wasn’t comparable to what this incubus was proposing. “I’m the one fighting for the good.”

That was all Harome could stand. The demon’s wings swept down and dissipated into a roiling cloud. The movement propelled him forward, too fast to dodge, and one long-clawed hand caught Soo-Hast around the neck. “Don’t preach to me, bird.” The mask was slipping, and something terrible began to peek around it. “You’re the one who asked for this.”

Gagging, Soo-Hast whipped the rope up, but the incubus caught it. It barely fizzled against his skin. Too weak. Soo-Hast flailed. One foot got lucky, and kicked the demon’s torso, scratching hard down his chest. Harome threw him down onto his back.

The swan scrambled to his feet, ruffled. “The Righteous will always conquer the Wicked.”

“The ideals of a child,” the incubus growled, throwing the blessed rope to the side and rushing him. Soo-Hast threw a punch, but Harome blocked it without effort. The guardian was not discouraged, and attempted a kick. Harome caught is ankle and pulled him off balance.

The swan hit the ground hard, leg held too high for him to regain balance. Harome pinned him with a foot and drew Soo-Hast’s limb up to his face. The mask was gone. The monster leered down at the bird. “It is time to grow up, cygnet.”

He bit him.

Soo-Hast gasped. It was beyond any pain he had experienced before. His flesh bubbled and hissed under the cutting pressure of the demon’s teeth, and a terrible burn rushed down his leg, clawing through his veins. He tried to pull back, and Harome let him, dropping his leg without fanfare.

“That should warm you up some,” the incubus growled, looming over the downed guardian. Soo-Hast drew his leg up the best he could, but the incubus kept him pinned. “We’ll see how idealistic you’ll be after I’m done with you.” The demon bent down to drag the tips of his claws on Soo-Hast’s neck and chest, splitting the clasps on his robe. The burn in his blood rushed to where the demon touched.

“You know,” the incubus purred, grabbing at Soo-Hast’s face, “you’re pretty enough to make this enjoyable.” The demon’s other hand slid against the exposed skin of the guardian’s chest. The touch changed intent. The pain from the bite warped into something much, much worse.

Soo-Hast couldn’t fight the way his spine curved, pushing against the foul caress. Harome’s face lit with lascivious intent, and Soo-Hast with an actual rush of fear. This demon was going to rape him.

“No!” he nearly shrieked, complete hysteria behind the exclamation, “Get off of me!”

\- - -

Jorkaal was a little shocked, himself. Mostly at himself. A mere second after hearing the stoic guardian give a terrified wail, he was out of the Inbetween, stumbling onto the cobbled street with a clatter.

“Back off!” The goat shouted, puffing himself up the best he could, his tail whipping furiously behind him. It would take a second for the absolute lunacy of the situation to sink in, but at the moment he felt quite brave, really.

Harome looked lazily over at him. His eyes were ink black and his face had been split by his horror of a mouth, slashed from ear to ear. The long white needles of his teeth clicked as he spoke. “I thought you were watching the show, little Rotkin? Go back home. I have a debt to collect.”

“No!” Jorkaal tried not to take joy in the surprise on the Incubus-Lord’s face at his defiance. A low-level did not sass back. The Rotkin struggled to come up with a reason why the incubus would listen to him. He had a vague idea, and shouted it out. “You let him go: he’s my claim.”

“You?” Harome stared at him as if he was completely mad, which was a very accurate assessment. “You claim this lawless guardian is your responsibility?” The incubus shook his head. “Just leave, cousin. I have no desire to punish you for his crimes. This is my prey now.”

Jorkaal cursed under his breath, his first idea failing. Now it was time for the even worse one. He stomped and snorted, looking the part of a scorned little sibling and made to leave, but when he heard Harome shift his attention to the guardian, he turned back. His charge was short, but it was just enough of a surprise to be efficient. He put as much into it as he could, and was rewarded by the heavy impact of horns-to-ribcage. He didn’t expect Harome to go flying, which he didn’t, but he did push him into a pile of garbage on the curb.

Bravery and valor went with him.

“Get up! Get up! Get up!” Jorkaal screeched, grabbing at Soo-Hast. He wrenched him upright in a violent motion, and immediately began to drag him away.

The guardian was a wreck. “What are you…”

The garbage pile exploded, and Harome, wild-eyed, stalked out of it, vomit drooling down his chin.

“Fuck!” Jorkaal pulled Soo-Hast up against him, and threw them inside the nearest wall.


	2. Damage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jorkaal finds himself as an unlikely hero in a very compromised situation.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck…” Jorkaal scrambled down a narrow passage in the Inbetween, pushing through the constant blue mist that hung in the air. Soo-Hast was close behind, being pulled through the thickness. The goat didn’t have time to slow down and accommodate his wounds. A noise rose up behind them; a roar lanced down the long hall. Harome was in the Inbetween. Jorkaal twisted around a corner, dove deeper, turned again.

The Inbetween was a network, a massive collection of every wall and plane in existence. They passed brick and wood and rock. They moved under floorboards and through the rafters. They traveled past the walls of bedrooms and bars, of great halls and hovels. He knew the space well; knew where every wall would take him. He could make a portal out of anything.

Their pursuer was not as talented, but he didn’t risk it. Yanking the guardian with him, Jorkaal threw him in the wall of a small storeroom in the next town over. They tumbled back into reality, only to go through the opposite wall, and back into the Inbetween. If he wove in and out, there would be no way to track them.

After a few more turns, he tried again, interrupting a formal dinner by scurrying across the room, and pushing out of reality once more. He turned them about a few more times, squeezed through a few tight spots and finally slowed, satisfied. He took stock of his companion.

Soo-Hast’s breath was coming in heaves, and he looked extremely disoriented. At the pace they were moving and the angles they were turning, Jorkaal really wasn’t surprised. “What did…” the swan gasped, teetering on his good leg, “what did he do to me?”

“He bit you,” the goat said. He was glad the guardian was too out of it to mock him for stating the obvious. All he received was a glossy stare. “Incubus bites are a curse,” the demon explained. He tried very hard not to make a face. “It’s one way that they get, uh,  _ responsive _ prey.” He let that implication just sit there, thank you very much.

“He was going to violate me,” Soo-Hast said.

Jorkaal remembered that note of panic. The way the guardian had reacted. The way  _ he _ had reacted. “In the nicest terms possible, yes.”

An expression of worry worked into the guardian’s perfect face. “What do I do?”

A noise down the narrow-way interrupted them. Something was heading their direction, and although he was certain it wasn’t Harome, getting caught with a guardian in the Inbetween was a bad idea. This was a place for demons. Jorkaal pushed Soo-Hast down around another corner, urging him forward.

“In a second!” he hissed, guiding him a way further. They were close. It took three more turns, and he found it, a dark, inconspicuous crack in the wall. “Go down there, come on.”

The crack widened and sloped downward and in a few strides, ended in a stone door. Jorkaal pressed his hand to it, and it gave way with a wheeze. “Get in!”

Jorkaal’s hidehole was well hidden, and not exactly a hole. It was a small apartment, dark and damp and a little dirty. In other words, it was perfect for him. He had a straw pile for sleeping, a fireplace for cooking and a little washroom for whatever washing he decided to torture himself through. It was also magically warded against detection and invasion, which was standard practice for most Rotkin. They were fantastic at hiding.

“Okay,” he said, swinging the door shut and clapping the place into complete darkness, “he won’t be able to get in here.” He scuffled in the dark for a moment, and after a little trouble, lit a rusty lantern. In the flicker, he took a longer look at Soo-Hast. The guardian already had a bruise about his neck, and his breathing was still labored. He did, however, seem to have regained some cognition. His eyes were less dim, and quite focused on Jorkaal’s face.

“Didn’t I fight you?”

Jorkaal chewed his lip rather unattractively. “Twice. I made you vomit the first time, and then the next time you choked me out.”

“Ah, yes.” Soo-Hast rubbed at his neck. “Jorkaal the Rotkin. Pleasant.” There was definite disdain there. Jorkaal hated the slight rush of joy at having his name remembered. The guardian took stock of his surroundings for a moment, then reevaluated his host. His eyes were not kind. Jorkaal suddenly felt like a kidnapper rather than a savior. “Why am I here?”

“I don’t know!” He threw his hands up and edged around the guardian, hooves clacking on the floor. “I was following you around and I saw Harome…”

“You’ve been following me?” the swan said, distrust settling heavily on his words.

“You’re weird. I was entertained.” Jorkaal tried to shrug it off. It didn’t work too well, as the gravity of the situation was just coming down on him. He had stalked a violent enemy, claimed responsibility for that enemy’s actions then attacked a top-level of his own kind, and abducted an injured, and soon to be very…  _ compromised _ deity. “Oh,” he murmured, “oh, what was I thinking? I attacked an Incubus Lord!”

“Yes,” Soo-Hast said. “That was foolish of you.”

Jorkaal balked at him. “Hey! I saved you! Be thankful you didn't get worse than that!” He pointed a blunt finger at the curse-mark on the guardian’s leg.

They fell silent for a moment as they stared at the injury. It was an ugly mess: a perfect circle of punctures just above his ankle. The dark scales were stained black around it, and it had swelled considerably. At least it wasn’t bleeding. Soo-Hast wasn’t standing on it.

“What can I do with it?” the guardian asked, somewhat hushed.

“It hurts, huh?” Jorkaal kneeled to get level with it, and tipped his head to get a better angle. He could have sworn it was smoking a little. Curses and blessings worked in opposite fashions on their kind. The hit he received from Soo-Hast had been the worst blessing Jorkaal had encountered yet, and he wasn't anywhere near the tier Harome was. 

“I bet it kills,” he said with a wince, “that’s a strong curse, and on someone so holy that must be awful.”

“Yes, it is quite unpleasant,” Soo-Hast clipped, leaning away from Jorkaal’s inquisitive eyes. “Pain, however, is trivial.”

It took a very long moment, and the fact that the swan was trying to look anywhere but his face for Jorkaal to figure out what that meant.

“Oh,” he squeaked. “You mean what do you do about the curse?” The guardian didn’t say anything, which was affirmation in itself. Jorkaal realized that the emotion he was seeing was mortification. He couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t know, let it run its lot?” As far as curses went, Cubi-bites weren’t all that bad: there were worse things than being ridiculously horny. Sure, they were inconvenient and certainly could lead to very strange morning-afters, but it wasn’t as if they made genitals rot off. “They’re a bit of a bitch, but if you just indulge yourself and get your rocks off you’ll be fine.” 

“And if I don’t?”

Jorkaal frowned, confused why one wouldn’t. “I imagine you go a bit crazy and lose the ability to control that need.” Maybe genitals would rot off. “Harome was a top level,” Jorkaal admitted, “his bite’s probably serious.”

The guardian kept lock-lipped and stared down at his leg. Jorkaal could see him processing the entire situation. For a Child of Abstinence, this was probably a real picnic.

“Uhm,” Jorkaal muttered, attempting to break the obvious strain. He tried to think of something he could do to calm his new guest. Something that a guardian would like to do in this situation. “Do you want to maybe clean yourself up?”

“You clean?” He could taste more than a little bit of mean sarcasm in that.

“You are such an asshole!” Jorkaal wrinkled his nose. “I save you from an Incubus-Lord and this is your attitude?”

“You are a demon,” Soo-Hast said, as if that was all the reason he needed which, most-likely, was true.

“And one of the family”

“ _ Extremely _ extended family…” 

“Oh fuck off,” Jorkaal snorted, slipping into the next room. Demons and guardians were both from the gods, and answered to the same higher authority. Although they were certainly in contest, they weren’t alien to each other, either.

The goat grumbled as he collected supplies for his oh-so-gracious guest. The washroom certainly wasn’t guardian-standard, but he had some water available, and it was only a little gray. He filled a bowl and returned. Soo-Hast looked down at the offering.

“Stop being such a prideful bitch,” the demon bristled.

Soo-Hast stiffened. His nostrils flared. Jorkaal rejoiced when he noticed the small bump that had formed where he’d broken the deity’s nose. “Pride is wicked, I would never be…”

“Yeah, uh huh,” the goat griped. This is why he was a demon: kindness never paid off. “You’re not full of yourself, and you are not being ungracious.”

It seemed like Jorkaal might have actually struck a chord, as the swan promptly shut up. He didn’t feel bad in the slightest.

“Here’s your water.” It sloshed over the rim as Jorkaal shoved it at him. “Hope it’s not too tainted for you.”

He knew that going to kick his straw into a pile looked very much like petulant behavior, but he didn’t much care. He was annoyed. This was annoying. He’d just stuck his neck out and made an enemy for nothing. If Soo-Hast was happy to be saved from being raped in a public street, he sure had a shitty way of showing it.

The guardian continued without his attention. He sat on the one stone stool next to the fire, leaning grudgingly on the slick-topped table. Jorkaal watched out of the corner of his eye as the swan ran his fingers over the surface of the water. Unfamiliar words fell from his mouth, dripping into the bowl. The guardian was casting a blessing. The goat felt his skin prickle.

He stopped kicking around as the swan cleaned, watching the guardian wet the corner of his torn robe and dig into the wound. The white of the cloth began to rust as he worked, and the entire affair looked like it hurt horribly. The swan’s face was stony and grim.

The water in the bowl was nearly black when he was through, but the blessing seemed to help some: the guardian had calmed, the beads of sweat that had formed on his brow cooled as his posture uncoiled. He hugged his body with his sullied robe and sighed, closing his eyes.

A few minutes passed before he did anything.

“Forgive me for my unkind behavior,” the guardian said, opening his eyes to meet Jorkaal’s gaze. “You are correct, you aided me without being asked.” He bobbed his head. “I thank you.”

Jorkaal felt even more flustered with the swan being nice to him. “No problem,” he muttered. And that was it. He really should learn how to hold a grudge. He may be far from being a guardian, but he was pretty bad at being a demon too. “I don’t know why I did it, but it’s done now.”

The guardian nodded and tested his injured leg. “When can I leave here? I will need healing from my own kin to abate the curse.”

“Leave?” Jorkaal scoffed, “not for another several hours, I’m afraid.” The guardian’s face was instantly horrified. So much for their positive rapport.

“You need to lay low,” the demon explained, “and there is no way I can get you out of the Inbetween- the Cubi are most likely hunting en-mass. With an active curse on you it will be like blood in the water.”

Soo-Hast pulled his cloak tighter. “I cannot stay here.”

“Hey, it’s safe. We are very well hidden.”

“No, that’s not what I…” the guardian’s teeth clicked shut, and he stilled. The only telling sign was how much darker his face had become.

“Oh.” Jorkaal worried his lip and tried very hard not to let his gaze drift down. He failed. “Oh, that. Starting to feel that, I take it?”

The swan was staring somewhere over his shoulder.

Maybe he should have thought all of this through more: there had to be another solution. If the guardian was going to survive the curse unscathed and unmolested, then he had to look at options. First step was probably to leave the swan well enough alone.

“Okay,” he exclaimed, breaking the silence, “Okay look- I am going to go check to see if there really are demons searching the Inbetween.”

“I thought you said we need to stay here?” Soo-Hast’s voice was clipped, but he was attempting to look the demon in the face this time. Progress.

“You need to- I don’t,” Jorkaal clarified. “I am so low level that I can go about unnoticed, and Rotkin are good at navigating the space between the world.” It was sad, but true: Jorkaal was just too small to sniff out, and although the Cubi would be looking for a Rotkin, Rotkin were very adept at giving their hunter’s the slip. “We’re good at hiding and biding our time.”

“Like a cancer.” Soo-Hast deadpanned, but it was a good compliment. A Rotkin worked for decades to perfect cancer.

“Yes!” He couldn’t help but smile. “I won’t be caught.” At least he was pretty sure of that.

Jorkaal hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to continue. The subject was glaring them in the face, but it was obviously not a favored one. “I know you hate to hear this,” he muttered, flapping his hand in the guardian’s general direction as he made for the door, “but you’ll need to take care of yourself while I am gone.” Soo-Hast made a choking noise. Jorkaal ignored it. “If you don’t, it’s just going to get worse.”

The door began to form before him, and he ran his fingers across the seam, convincing it open. “You know,” Jorkaal pondered, turning back to look at the swan. Soo-Hast was making every effort not to return the gesture. “I could bring someone back with me,” he offered. If the guardian was unwilling to take care of his own business, perhaps fetching another would be the better plan. “A mortal. Someone who could help alleviate the…”

Soo-Hast’s eyes snapped to his. They were hard and angry. “You propose abducting a mortal for me to desecrate?”

“You’re pretty,” the demon observed, “I’m certain I could find someone who’d consent to it.”

“Leave me alone,” the swan hissed, taking a threatening step in his direction. Something very similar to fury broiled under his words. “The very thought of putting that upon a mortal ward is abhorrent.” His tail had fluffed itself up, and his stance was ready for a fight. “Get out.”

Jorkaal felt himself shrink. “Suit yourself,” he muttered, backing out the door. “But, then you’re going to have to do it.” He made sure the tone of his voice explained what ‘it’ was perfectly. “I’ll be gone for a while. I suggest you make use of your private time.”

The goat closed the door tight behind him, and for the first time, felt more comfortable out of his hiding space than in it.

\-  \-  -

Jorkaal gave the guardian three hours, although it was clear after 20 minutes that there would be no sneaking him out of the Inbetween. The Cubi were out in troves, talking in corners, prowling the halls and slipping in and out of the walls. Soo-Hast would be scented out in a second. Even if he managed to get him out into Reality, the demons could easily follow him, and they would have a repeat of the street incident with a few additional assailants. Even Jorkaal found that concept frightening. Soo-Hast had to stay put until the curse was dispelled.

The remaining time was spent searching for some sort of solution to the problem that inhabited his hidehole. A potential antidote lay wrapped in his hand. It has been difficult to get a hold of, and his hand wasn’t feeling too terrific being in contact with it, but any attempt was a welcome one.

The door swung in at his request, and a horrific mess greeted him. There were extensive charcoal drawings all over the floor, and half of his bedding appeared to have been thrown about the room. Jorkaal’s hooves stung against the stone.

“Ow! Oh fuck, what did you do?”

Soo-Hast was leaning against the wall. His hair was a travesty, his cloak was missing. He looked drunk.

Jorkaal hopped around, trying to alleviate the pain in his feet. The runes on the floor were rather strong blessings, and they were making him sick. Soo-Hast gave him a long look, and bent down to smudge one of the lines. The pain abated.

“Thank you!” The goat rubbed his hooves in some of the disbursed bedding. The blessing thinned out and began to lift. Soo-Hast staggered to the middle of the rune circle. His eyes had darkened, and the way he was glaring at the demon had changed. The curse was much worse.

“So, you haven’t taken my advice?”

Soo-Hast snorted, which Jorkaal took to be a ‘no’.

Okay. Fine. “I brought this for you.” The vial hissed and spit at him as he attempted to unwrap it, and he rolled it on the table, shaking his hands. “It’s holy wine from the Sepulcher of Heero-Phanin. I figured if anything would help, it would be something from a healing altar.” Heero-Phanin was the real deal, and a lightly blessed wine was about as good as he could get his hands on without getting them eaten off. In fact, the only reason he hadn’t lost any limb was because the wine was most likely healing and hurting him at the same time.

“This is from the Angel of Health?” Soo-Hast took a long look at Jorkaal’s reddened palms and frostbit fingers.

“Try it out.”

The swan didn’t need to be told twice: he bit the cork off and drank it in one go. He closed his eyes, and waited.

Jorkaal chewed his lip, searching the guardian’s face. The pinched look hadn’t lessened, and the sweat didn’t dry from his skin. It didn’t seem like the wine was doing much of anything. The goat chanced a look down, and noticed, with a bit of surprise, that the blackened wound on the swan’s ankle had vanished.

“It worked!”

“No. It didn’t.” Soo-Hast hadn’t moved. His breath was quickening.

“But, the bite mark is…”

“It’s not the bite mark that is the problem, is it?” The swan snapped, knocking Jorkaal away with a fist, and the guardian folded himself in half, shivering.

This was serious.

“I’m sorry.” Because he was. “I thought that would work.” The guardian seemed to be falling apart. He had no good news for him. “There are a lot of Cubi out there,” Jorkaal muttered, watching the way Soo-Hast dug his fingers into his flesh. The line of feathers on his forearm were crooked and frayed. “Some other demons from other sects as well. It’s not going to calm down any time soon.”

The swan made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob. Jorkaal didn’t take any pleasure in watching the guardian suffer. He was a demon, but he wasn’t into this.

“Hey,” he said, inching nearer, “hey, you alright?”

“Are you an idiot?” Soo-Hast’s voice had a tinny note of hysteria. Apparently not.

Jorkaal was at a loss. He could get them out of the Inbetween if Soo-Hast were in a normal state, but the curse made the guardian into a homing beacon for other demons. Soo-Hast was unwilling to do what was necessary to manage his curse, and the attempts to bless it away had been futile. And, judging from what he walked in on, he hadn’t been the only one at work trying to find a way to flush the curse out. The guardian’s state had worsened, and he was trembling from effort. Something had to be done.

“No, I’m not an idiot,” Jorkaal sighed. “I am, however, really sorry about this.” Resolute, he reached out and cupped his hand firmly over the guardian’s crotch.

Soo-Hast’s reaction was mixed between a hiss and a groan, which just confirmed to Jorkaal how far gone he really was. The guardian grabbed at his wrist, but didn’t try too hard to pull away. His pupils were blown wide.

“I don’t see many other options here.” Jorkaal flexed his fingers and the guardian twitched. “You’re too pigheaded to indulge yourself, and I’m too annoyed to watch you suffer over something so stupid.” The demon pushed in a little closer, tipping his head to study the swan’s face. He tried on his most casual, harmless smile. “You should have no qualms over desecrating someone like me, huh?”

Soo-Hast baulked at him, but Jorkaal knew he had ground to gain, there. If the guardian was so horrified over polluting his body or corrupting another, then why not use something already foul for such a base act? Jorkaal was weak enough that his influence could be blessed away with something as simple as a bath. It was the easiest route, and he had a feeling Soo-Hast knew it.

If the guardian did have any protests, they weren’t forthcoming, but Jorkaal would give him enough time to voice them. He cautiously set his hand to work, but there wasn’t much he needed to do- Soo-Hast was already rigid under his loin-piece, and the cloth was growing damp.

Jorkaal eyed the swan critically. “Do you want me to help?”

If he hadn’t been watching for the nod, he would have missed it it was so slight. The goat rolled his eyes. The damn guardian couldn’t even let himself be assisted without feeling guilty.

Jorkaal sank down on his haunches, using his tail to hold him steady in his crouch. The white waist-piece was tented and sullied, and he pulled it out of the way unceremoniously. Jorkaal felt a little sting of jealousy. Of course, everything on the guardian had to be pretty and well-proportioned. His cock was graceful and perfect and hard, and the swan refused to even touch it. It was completely absurd.

Soo-Hast was man-shaped until mid thigh, so everything was on quite the attractive display. The demon’s own genitals were a bit trickier. The snake scales from the underside of his tail ran up to his pelvis, and his own cock was safely hidden between scale plates. He didn’t find his cock nearly as pretty as the guardian’s, and he used it often. How the swan could manage to keep his hands off himself looking the way he did was a complete mystery.

Jorkaal slid his hand up the swan’s thigh and wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock. The demon’s hands were too raw from the blessed bottle to work him manually, but there were more efficient means available. The guardian jolted under his grip, and Jorkaal licked his lips, treasuring the shiver that the sight of his tongue caused. Jorkaal grunted in approval, and leaned forward.

The Rotkin was experienced enough to know that his mouth was one of his best assets. His saliva was oily and thicker, therefor absolutely fantastic for these affairs. He barely had his mouth closed over Soo-Hast before he heard the first whine from above him. It was quickly killed. The guardian was shock-still, and Jorkaal saw the muscles of his abdomen tighten: he was fighting with everything he had. Jorkaal could work past that quickly enough.

The second weapon in his arsenal was his ridiculous tongue. Although it was an incredible inconvenience for the most part, it was quite useful in certain scenarios. He wrapped the muscle tightly around the cock in his mouth and constricted as he slid. Three strokes had the swan’s legs shaking.

Jorkaal settled his palms against dark, bony hips, deciding to keep his fingers from anywhere controversial. He was already well over the line of “common decency”, and he really didn’t want to fight the guardian just so he could suck him off. The situation was already intensely weird, but as he felt the tremor of the flesh in his grasp, he really didn’t care much.

Jorkaal picked up his pace, relishing in the obscene wet noises his work was making. The apartment was too small for such sounds, and the goat knew that the depravity of it all was getting to his partner. Soo-Hast’s eyes were clamped shut, but his mouth was open, and his breathing was becoming much more labored. Jorkaal unwound his tongue, and let the swan slide over it, bumping the back of his throat.

Soo-Hast actually jerked at that. Fantastic. He continued attentions, enjoying the tiniest sounds that were now escaping the swan’s mouth. He wouldn’t last very long. If, of course, the guardian was going to let himself cum. Repression nearly rolled off Soo-Hast in waves, and Jorkaal wasn’t about to suck dick all day if the only thing it got them was a neckache and escalated tension.

Drawing his tongue back into his mouth, he constricted it around Soo-Hast as tight as he could manage, closed his lips around the base, and drew hard. Soo-Hast made a gasp that sounded suspiciously like a honk. Jorkaal didn’t move, but his tongue did, sliding up and down with enough enthusiasm that he was almost worried about choking himself. The hips under his hands were bucking into him.

Jorkaal could feel the guardian’s self control breaking apart, and he hummed in encouragement. That added vibration seemed to be the final straw.

Two dark hands grabbed on to his horns, and Soo-Hast drew himself out of his mouth, only to drive back in again. Jorkaal sputtered, but relaxed his jaw and let him continue. Lust and need were seeping from the guardian’s very pores. This was the curse at work. Soo-Hast was moaning outright, fucking the demon’s mouth without finesse.

Jorkaal continued his humming, which had evolved into a deep, resonant growl. It apparently did wonders: Soo-Hast’s motions became erratic, stuttered. He pushed in as far as he could get, let loose a cry of surprise, and came.

The taste was alarming, and the sharp, cold sensation even more so. It was like swallowing an ice cube. Jorkaal wrenched out of the guardian’s vice-like grasp and spat on the floor. Soo-Hast staggered back, off-balance, and leaned heavily against the table.

“You didn’t tell me your cum was blessed.” Jorkaal continued to spit, but he managed to laugh around the punctuations. Soo-Hast looked like he was about to vomit. Jorkaal did have that effect on people, although it was normally intentional.

“I didn’t know,” the guardian murmured.

Jorkaal finished wiping off his tongue before he spoke again, “you alright there?” He squinted up at the guardian. “You feel better?”

Rage overcame shock faster than he thought possible. Especially that close after an orgasm. He wasn’t ready for the kick, and the black-scaled foot knocked him onto his hip with an oomph.

“Of course not!” The guardian shouted, his voice an earthquake against the stone. “How would sexual acts with a demon make me feel better? Isn’t that what you ‘saved’ me from?”

“It’s not like that!” Jorkaal sputtered, eyes wide. It wasn’t like that at all! He was helping! He was gentle! It wasn’t like he forced the swan to fuck his mouth! “You gave me the okay! You didn’t seem to want me to stop at any point, and it was obviously sufficient!”

“Get out of my way.” Soo-Hast hissed, he looked surprisingly murderous for such a slender thing. Jorkaal remembered the noose, and knew better. He scooted to the side, and the guardian stalked past him to the washroom, slamming the stone door. Rubble fell from the ceiling.

Jorkaal let him go. He expected a poor reaction, but not that poor. How could someone go from fucking your face to throwing a fit like a disenchanted virgin? The goat had helped, maybe not the way the swan wanted, but it seemed like the only option. What the hell was he supposed to do? Let a guardian die from horniness in his living room?

Jorkaal grumbled to himself, pushing some of his scattered bedding back together and collapsed into it, preparing to sleep off the worst of the bitch fit currently taking place in the washroom.

\-  \-  -

Jorkaal woke an hour later to a tightly sealed bathroom door and a revelation.

Soo-Hast  _ was _ a disenchanted virgin.

Correction, had been. At least the virgin part. He was definitely disenchanted.

It hadn’t occurred to him that the guardian hadn’t done that before. For demons, sex was a normal, uncelebrated function. It was like eating and shitting and corrupting mortals- it was completely commonplace and no one really thought anything about it. He was a low-leveled nobody, and he still got around on a regular basis. Of course, not all of the fucking in the circle of demons was pretty, or pleasant, or even slightly civilized, but it was still common.

Apparently that wasn’t so with the guardian crowds.

Of course they had sex, but it was most likely ritualized and proper and monogamous. Uptight. Pure. Probably with their clothes still on. He had assumed that that was what Soo-Hast would have done. Had some nice, normal, purified sex, cleaned up and acted like a perfect gentleman afterward. He had had boring sex, but he had had sex. He’d at least had a genteel handjob.

Based on the newest reaction, that wasn’t such a clear answer. He supposed it only made sense, being a Guardian of Self Control and all. Self-control over hedonism was a general field, but of course that included sexual abstinence. That was why he hadn’t even attempted to masturbate: he simply refused to indulge. No wonder he was pent up. Instead of getting laid, Soo-Hast had just decided to punch demons in the face. It was wildly inappropriate of him.

What a fucking rude bastard.

This was only more evident when Jorkaal observed that he had gone and locked himself into the foul little washroom of a low class demon. He would be amused about it all later, but at the moment, he was peeved.

Why was he helping this self-important guardian? He could be nibbling on the liver of that alcoholic on Raskat street right about now, but instead, he was pressed to his own washroom door, trying to see if he could pry it open. The handle had been blessed, because Soo-Hast was a jerk, so Jorkaal was working at the hinges. Unfortunately, the spells on his house didn’t allow him to pass through his own walls. He’d have to do it the hard way.

Jorkaal didn’t have to keep the guardian hidden. He didn’t have to do anything. He could go out, find a cubi, and just hand the foppish swan over. There was no reason to cater to him, to assist him, or to even bother saving him. The payoff was far below the gain. Certainly the guardian was fascinating and fairly pretty to look at, but Jorkaal wasn’t  _ that _ hard up for attention.

He should go out right now, and find Harome. He should clear his name, and get on with his life.

And he would, after he got the door open.

The pin of the second hinge came free with a squeak, and he gave a bleat of triumph. With a firm push, the door budged inward, widening a sliver until he could peek inside. Soo-Hast’s white hair and feathers nearly glowed in the dark of the room. He had managed to light a lopsided tallow candle and set it on the wash pedestal. Its light reflected dimly off of Jorkaal’s ancient tarnished mirror.

The guardian must have heard him, but he didn’t bother to move. He was leaning against the pedestal, one hand over his face. His posture was slumped, and from what little Jorkaal could see from under his fingers, his face was twisted in a grimace.

Jorkaal sighed: of course he wasn’t going to get Harome. He wasn’t going to be going anywhere but into his washroom to help.

It was a trick to get in the room without knocking the door down, but he managed, hooves light on the floor. The washroom was impeccably clean. Soo-Hast had apparently taken it upon himself to tidy up, and the once atrocious chamber was well- scrubbed. Jorkaal felt itchy just looking at it, but if it had kept the guardian distracted, then it was a good thing.

Soo-Hast didn’t acknowledge his presence, and Jorkaal refused to note on how dense the air had become between them. He was as stubborn as his animal likeness, and certainly as brash.

“So, are you going to come out of here, or are you serving penance in the latrine?” he tried, chancing a smile that came out as a wince.

The swan made a noise that was less than friendly, and didn’t bother looking at him.

Jorkaal cleared his throat and began again. “Hey, I know you think I’m all sorts of disgusting, but at least you didn’t take your curse out on a mortal?” That was good, wasn’t it? Not face-fucking some poor pious patron? It was certainly better than what an incubus would have done to him. At least Jorkaal was robust and willing.

From the way that the muscle in Soo-Hast’s jaw flexed, the goat wasn’t helping. Jorkaal was nothing if not annoyingly persistent. “I did agree to all of that,” he said, inching closer and ducking his head a little, “I don’t mind helping you out.”

It took him approaching for Soo-Hast to react. His voice was less than serene and musical: he sounded like an aged smoker. “That’s not the point.”

Up close, Jorkaal could see how Soo-Hast had mashed his hips against the stone pedestal, no doubt attempting to squeeze the life out of his supernatural erection. All the lines of his body screamed of pain and tension.

“I know, I know,” the demon murmured, “this is all so below you.” He settled his hand on the swan’s shoulder, lightly and unoffensively as possible. “I can let you out of here, if you really want to risk it.”

“It’s not going to change anything,” Soo-Hast snipped. He was talking through his teeth. “I’m still going to be in this state. I’m still going to have… done  _ that _ with you. What happened out there,” he paused, fighting the correct words, “ _ that _ was unacceptable.”

Jorkaal shrugged. “I can accept it. I'm sorry this is so awful for you.” It was just sex. The guardian was making it sound like torture.“I am confused by your notion of morality,” the demon said, tipping his head. Soo-Hast was barely looking at him in the reflection. “Physically assaulting me like the first time we met is permissible, but accepting my willing help now is horrible?”

The swan was shaking his head. “To befoul myself with a demon…”

Jorkaal poked him hard in the arm. “The incubus did the befouling. You don’t want me to give you up to the Cubi aching and hard, you don’t want to take care of it yourself. You’re the one causing problems.” Because he was. “I didn’t want to make you do anything, but there weren’t many options. Sorry I can't fix it.”

Soo-Hast finally turned to look at him, and leaned against the sink. His hair had a definite slouch. “Why are you doing this?”

“I don't know…” Journal muttered, the steam going out of him. He didn't really want to think about that, himself. He didn't want to admit that he had stalked the Prude for days, obsessing over his every move, wondering why he was pitting himself against the impossibility of defeating the dark. He didn’t want to confess he was dying to know what ‘need’ the gaurdian was trying to slake with his painful battle against the damned. He didn't want to examine the strange, sad feeling at seeing this asshole of a guardian in pain, and how strong the pull was to help. He didn't want to look at how he had so quickly thrown his own life of anonymity and ease within the demon world away, all because he heard fear in the swan’s voice. 

Talking about it would mean telling himself some difficult and surprising truths about his own nature, and those thoughts were better left well alone.

Soo-Hast leaned forward, closer to his face than ever before. Jorkaal knew he had seen the confusion there, and while the guardian's eyes seemed almost fever-bright, they were still intent.

“Why did you help me, Rotkin Jorkaal? Why did you save a being who did nothing but hurt you?”

Jorkaal felt a rush of panic under the scrutiny. The guardian would sneer at him, regardless of his answer, truth or a lie. 

“I don’t know,” Jorkaal scoffed, trying his best to look unconcerned as he detonated the tenuous situation, “I was just sort of hoping to get laid.”

He expected the hit, and frankly, it was a bit of a relief. The feelings of empathy and compassion were unfamiliar and unsure, but pain was an old acquaintance. The punch knocked him back hard and he stumbled against the door. The unpinned hinges gave way and the stone slab crashed to the floor, Jorkaal falling with it.

He barely had a moment to be winded as Soo-Hast followed, towering over him. His foot came down hard on the demon’s chest.

“You are the most revolting,” Soo-Hast growled, “the lowest…”

“I am helping you!” the goat exclaimed, ineffectively trying to free himself, “what do you care if I profit?”

“You wanted to fuck me, yourself?” The word was spat with such malice Jorkaal flinched. “That’s why you saved me?” the swan hissed. His face was twisted in anger and agony, but something else lurked under it. Betrayal. 

The sight of it drove a lance through the demon, and the truth welled up and spilled out, regardless of Jorkaal’s desires.

“Of course not, not like this,” he said, wincing with his honesty. “I know Cubi. They're monsters. I didn't want that to happen to you.” Soo-Hast had sounded so terrified, out there on the street, envenomed and defeated, about to be consumed. Jorkaal couldn't bear it. 

The pressure on his chest disappeared as Soo-Hast staggered back. He looked crazed and ruined, all finesse burned out of him. “And instead you want it to happen to you?” Jorkaal pulled himself up off of the wrecked door, unbothered by the mess. Soo-Hast paced his way along the far side of the room, moving like a caged beast. His bright eyes were furious.

“Instead of the victim,” he snarled, “you turned me into the perpetrator?”

Jorkaal rolled his eyes: Soo-Hast’s condition and reactions were nowhere near that of an aggressive cubi, and Jorkaal was not that weak.

“You're still cursed,” he said. “This isn't your fault.” If anything, Soo-Hast was the most innocent party in the fiasco. “I mean, you're a prick, but not because you've got a demonic hard-on.” His laugh was loud in the room. Soo-Hast winced at the jest. 

He was being an unhelpful ass, again. The demon took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He wasn't the victim here, and he was antagonizing the guardian out of pure frustration. Jorkaal tried to soften his tone. The guardian was obviously distressed, and his rude sense of humor was not helping. “I'm sorry you feel guilty, but you shouldn't,” he said. “You need to let go.”

Soo-Hast shook his head, his eyes closed tight. “I am a being of abstinence and control. I’m made to deny myself these things.” He sounded almost as if he was attempting to convince himself. “If I relinquish control, if I give in, I will be a monster.”

“I am a monster,” Jorkaal said. “And you are not a Cubi. I can handle you a whole lot easier than you could handle one of them.”

Soo-Hast let forth a quick and violent laugh, swaying where he stood. His skin was gleaming with sweat in the lamplight. “Handle me? I almost killed you, demon, or did you forget nearly losing a hand?”

Jorkaal would not soon forget that. The cutting sear of holy ice, slicing through his flesh and cracking his bones would remain clear for some time. “You were blessed then,” he reasoned. “Now you're possessed. Demonic urges can't harm me the way holiness does.” At least that’s how it made sense to him. When Soo-Hast hurt him, he had done so with holy blessings. The physical was nowhere near as painful.

Soo-Hast still held his eyes closed, his brows furrowed and lips fighting a wince. There was a tremor in his hands. Jorkaal chanced a step closer, and watched the guardian suck in a harsh breath at his movement.

When the swan spoke again, his voice sounded weak. “You need to leave.”

“No,” Jorkaal said, “this is MY home.” He was close enough to reach out and touch now, and the guardian knew it “I'm not going anywhere.”

Soo-Hast’s eyes opened, and he jerked back at the demon’s proximity. The normally graceful figure stumbled and slipped in the loose straw, falling hard into the pile. Jorkaal slowly crouched in front of him, trying, and failing, to keep a look of pity from his face. 

The Prude was on the verge of hysteria, his breath coming in quick gasps, his pupils blown wide. “You have to get out of here.”

Jorkaal sighed, fingers going to his waist piece to unfasten it. He shook his head. “You know I won’t.” 

The hay rustled as Jorkaal shifted to lay on it, trying his best to keep calm. Showing his nerves would be unhelpful for the both of them. He settled onto his back, letting his furred legs fall apart. He knew to a handsome guardian he might not look at all tempting, but a lust-cursed mess of a guardian? He might pass.

Soo-Hast was openly staring, his hands clenched against his own thighs, refusing to move. Jorkaal fought an eye roll and instead slid two fingers into his mouth, wetting them. The demon shifted slightly, bringing the digits down between his legs. The oily nature of his saliva allowed an easy slide as he pushed them into himself. To his side, Soo-Hast hissed through his teeth. Now his gaze was very much drawn downward.

It was a bit alarming to be this salacious, and Jorkaal tried his best to show confidence as he fingered himself with an audience. “I assume you’re okay with doing most the work?” He asked, trying to fight down the nervous stammer that threatened him. 

Soo-Hast didn’t answer. He was shaking all over now, wet with sweat. Jorkaal hated that he still looked unbearably beautiful even then, on the verge of madness. 

Jorkaal gracelessly spit into his palm, adding more slick to himself. The wet, lurid sound drew a full body twitch from the guardian. Jorkaal relaxed his posture further, trying his best to look calm. The grip on his fingers was loosening, almost easy. He slid them out. This was as ready as he was going to get with the amount of tension between them.

“Come here,” he whispered, eyes trained on the guardian beside him. “It’s okay. Come on.”

The speed at which the swan moved was alarming. Jorkaal’s knees squeezed up to his chest as his legs were shoved upward and a burning body collapsed down onto him. Soo-Hast struggled to remove his clothing, snarling at it in frustration as he ripped it away. He was frantic, throwing the tangled remains of his cincture band across the room, clumsily pressing forward. Jorkaal was quick to lick his palm and reach down to assist. His wet hand closed on Soo-Hast’s cock and guided it to him. The demon could not hide the grunt of pain at the sudden, harsh thrust inside. He could handle it, he knew, but he had no illusions about this being pleasurable for himself. 

Jorkaal lolled his head back, gasped a deep breath, and focused on relaxing. As soon as he did, however, he noticed the press into him had stilled, halfway buried. Soo-Hast was wincing above him, arms shaking as he held himself still. The guardian sobbed with the effort, no doubt desperate to slam into the heat enveloping him, and Jorkaal realized he was trying to be considerate and avoid any more harm to the demon.

The attempt itself was soothing, and Jorkaal felt the pain lessen into a more pleasant, steady burn. “It’s okay, I can take it.” He assured, letting a hand grip to the guardian’s bicep as an anchor. “I can take you. Come on.” The guardian sunk into him further with halting twitches, the movements instinctual, yet unsure. “That’s it,” Jorkaal murmured, “come on.”

Soo-Hast released a shakey, vocal breath as he began to move, fucking Jorkaal in short, uncoordinated jolts. The demon felt droplets of his counterpart’s sweat land on his skin, icy cold. Jorkaal chanced a look into Soo-Hast’s eyes to find the swan staring at him, eyes foggy, yet aware.

“I’m sorry,” the swan hissed, hips stuttering.

Jorkaal cursed his own empathy, and reached up to grip the nape of Soo-Hast’s neck, pulling him down closer. The chill of his forehead rested against Jorkaal’s shoulder, and the demon let his fingers knead at the guardian's wet skin. “It’s fine,” he soothed, “I’m alright.” 

Soo-Hast’s movements evened out, and Jorkaal tilted his hips in time with him, trying his best to match rhythms. The burn had disappeared, and in its absence, Jorkaal felt a pleasant fullness. He had been a bit worried the tension would make the entire ordeal a painful chore, but it looked as if that was not the case. 

Above him, Soo-Hast let out the first noise that wasn’t distressed. A breathy moan rumbled against his shoulder and the swan shifted his head, ducking downward to look between them. He moaned again, louder. Jorkaal realized that the guardian was watching his own cock disappear into Jorkaal’s body. 

The demon swore and rocked his hips up harder, alarmed at how arousing that simple action was. He bit back a groan of his own as he felt his cock flush and fatten, sliding out from between his scale plates where it was hidden. Jorkaal realized how strange it was to feel so lewd: he was already laying there with a cock stuffed in him, how was it a problem that he was getting hard? 

Soo-Hast didn’t seem to find any problem with it, judging from his reaction. The guardian made a lovely, encouraging noise and pushed hard behind the demon’s knees, spreading him open further, putting Jorkaal on full display. 

It was too much, watching this repressed guardian indulge in his body, reckless and needing. Jorkaal brought his hand down to stroke himself, enjoying the fevered look the action got him. 

Soo-Hast quickened his pace as he watched the demon under him. There was no longer a trace of disgust in his gaze, only heat and want. The curse had him. Jorkaal moaned and panted, the air nearly squeezed out of him by the way his legs were held so close to his chest. 

Too soon, Soo-Hast’s pace began to falter and become erratic. He came suddenly with a harsh gasp, and nearly collapsed onto Jorkaal as he finished. The demon jolted at the alarming feeling of icy slickness filling him, colder than he was expecting. Soo-Hast may have been cursed, but it seemed his bodily fluids were still holy enough to shock a demon’s senses. 

On top of him, Soo-Hast lay shivering and heavy, and Jorkaal wrapped his arms around him, stroking his sweat-soaked back. The intimacy of the action embarrassed him, but he indulged in it anyway.

Soo-Hast’s breathing slowed and calmed, but his cock did not. He remained hard inside Jorkaal. The demon shivered as he felt a chilly wetness trickle down to the underside of his tail.

“How many…” the swan asked weakly against Jorkaal’s skin, “how long will this last?”

“I don't know.” He answered truthfully. “I guess until you can’t anymore?”

Soo-Hast groaned in annoyance and Jorkaal couldn’t help but snicker. Even cursed and post-coitus, the swan was still a bit of a bitch.

“I’ll stay conscious for as long as I can.” Jorkaal patted the guardian on the shoulder, only half-joking. He hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Soo-Hast nodded absentmindedly, his clarity already fading. His hips began to rock again, cock sliding in the new slickness he’d created. 

Jorkaal sighed in relief as Soo-Hast lifted off of him, shifting to an easier position. Unfortunately, that position was Soo-Hast sitting up with Jorkaal’s hips canted into Soo-Hast’s lap. If the demon felt exposed before, he was on full display now. He nearly cursed the little lighting there was until he realized he could see plenty of the guardian, too.

For how slender Soo-Hast was, he was deceptively strong. He had shucked the last of his ridiculous priestly attire in his frenzy, and the cut of his hips and rolling flex of his bare abdomen was a pretty sight. He had hooked his arms under Jorkaal knees, and was using them to haul the demon back with every thrust forward. The arousal Jorkaal had lost in their short intermission came roaring back at the sight, and he took himself in hand again. 

“Aim up a bit,” the demon panted, unable to move much with the way he was held. He was worried Soo-Hast would not be aware enough to even hear him, but the guardian grunted and complied. A delicious thrill surged up through the demon as Soo-Hast’s cock pressed the right spot.

“Fuck, yes,” Jorkaal groaned. The guardian mirrored the noise and picked up the pace. Jorkaal knew he wouldn’t last long with dual stimulation, and the harder strokes were going to wreck him. A glance up at Soo-Hast confirmed he wasn’t alone. The guardian obviously liked seeing the demon enjoy himself; his eyes were lidded and intense, his mouth open and panting. He was a gorgeous sight.

It was a bit too much of a sight, and Jorkaal felt his body tense and tighten, the pressure at the point of bursting. Soo-Hast moaned as Jorkaal clamped down on him, and a few more desperate pulls had him over. Jorkaal would have been embarrassed by the noise he made, long and breathy and pleased, if Soo-Hast hadn’t drowned it out with his own loud exclamation.

The shock of cold very nearly jolted Jorkaal out of his own pleasurable haze, but it felt somewhat relieving after such a strenuous fuck. He couldn’t hold his amused laugh as Soo-Hast slumped down over him, releasing Jorkaal’s legs so he lay akimbo.

“Good job,” Jorkaal said, patting the sweaty mess of a guardian on the head. He was surprised to find his hair had the silken texture of feathers. Not human-like at all. Soo-Hast was breathing heavily, exhausted, but the persistent erection, now pressed wet to Jorkaal’s hip, was still as alert as before.

“Are you hurt?” Soo-Hast’s voice was a rasp, but discernible. 

“Going to be sore, but so are you.” The demon was not excited to see the amount of chafing this was going to lead to.

The guardian nodded and rested his head on his forearm. Jorkaal turned his face slightly and caught the scent of his hair, now damp with sweat. He tried not to be too obvious, but it was a nice mix of fancy oils and musk. Certainly better than he smelled.

“How do you feel?” Jorkaal asked, needing to break the moment of silence. He felt drowsy, but he knew sleep would be a long way off for both of them.

Soo-Hast shifted and hissed, a wince twisting his lips. He shot Jorkaal a foggy look and moved again, his cock slipping against Jorkaal’s skin. “I have to…” he whispered. “I need more.”

Jorkaal smiled in sympathy and brought his hand down to grip Soo-Hast’s cock, pulling him in long, smooth strokes. The swan groaned and moved with him.

“Okay,” Jorkaal said, quickening his pace and letting the guardian loom over him again. “Let’s try again.”

*  *  *

The Rotkin’s hidehole had no windows, so the passage of time was impossible to measure. Normally, Soo-Hast was good at such things, but his head was roaring.

Sitting up was an affair, and a shock of pain woke him completely. His legs were incredibly sore. His genitals felt like they had been rubbed raw. His mouth tasted like copper. He was very satiated.

And suddenly, very nauseous.

The being normally responsible for such a thing was only a few feet away, heaped bonelessly on a pile of straw. His back was turned to the guardian, andSoo-Hast could see the purple stamp of fingerprints above the fur of his hips.

Soo-Hast’s stomach roiled in realization.

Apparently curses did not have the good decency to make the victim forget the spell. Everything was quite clear. Especially the their drawn out final encounter before the curse dispelled. That one was particularly memorable.

Soo-Hast took a quick assessment of his person. Other than physical exhaustion, he was uninjured. The holy wine was most likely still working in his system. That, or the demon had made no move to retaliate for his brutish behavior. The guardian had a feeling those were both correct assessments.

The demon shifted slightly, huffing out a snore. Well, at least he wasn’t dead- although that might have made things a little less awkward, because now Soo-Hast was going to have to  _ talk _ to him. 

The guardian bit his lips into a fine line and exhaled. He had done these things. He had been under the influence, but he was responsible. Responsibility was one of the holiest traits one could exhibit, and if there was anything he needed to concentrate on at the moment, it was working on being more holy.

The guardian steeled himself for the worst, carefully leaned over and touched the demon’s shoulder. The goat’s eyes slipped open almost immediately, and the demon turned his head to look at him. There was a splash of a purple on his other cheek that looked very similar in size to Soo-Hast’s fist.

Jorkaal blinked owlishly. Soo-Hast was half propped over his body, and he felt frozen by the bright gold eyes.

“You feel better?” The demon muffled a yawn.

Soo-Hast couldn’t even bring himself to blanch at the monstrous case of morning breath. He had assaulted and violated his host and his host was asking if  _ he _ felt better- as if a cubi-curse was a headache. His nausea turned into a full body experience.

“No,” the guardian muttered, pulling back, “I don’t.”

Jorkaal twisted his shoulders to keep his eyes on him. He looked a little alarmed. “The curse should have…”

“It’s not that,” Soo-Hast snipped. He couldn’t keep the anger from his voice, couldn’t keep the look of revulsion from his face. His control was in shambles.

“Ah.” Jorkaal seemed to catch on. The demon rolled himself fully onto his back, and stiffened in obvious pain. Soo-Hast winced for him. The demon breathed through his nose a few times, letting the feeling settle, and shot the guardian an annoyed look. “Your self-loathing is sweet and all, but it's an ugly look for you. Want to do some penance?” the goat smiled, his lip was split. The guardian almost caught himself nodding obediently. “How about getting me a wet rag?”

“You?” the swan jibed half-heartedly, pushing himself to his feet, “wanting to wash?”

Jorkaal laughed from where he lay sprawled on the floor, whapping weakly at the guardian’s ankles with his tail. Soo-Hast stepped over the ruined door and into the washroom. Since he had cleaned the entire thing the night before, he was quite familiar with the supplies he was looking for.

When he returned with a washcloth, a basin and what the demon seemed to have in sullying oils (which smelled horrible to Soo-Hast, which meant they were most likely very good for the demon) the goat had managed to sit up. Jorkaal smiled at him. He was naked and mauled and looking ever bit as assaulted as he was, but not harboring a single shred of malice. Soo-Hast paused. The demon’s smile faltered at what the swan knew was probably the most morose face he had ever worn. He averted his eyes and offered the supplies.

Jorkaal lifted them out of his hands a little too gently, and proceeded to mutter something about him being an overachieving prick.

Soo-Hast scoffed. The nausea abated.

\-  \-  -

It took Jorkaal a half-hour to clean himself up, and Soo-Hast had been incredibly creepy and had watched him the entire time. It probably had something to do with “witnessing one’s wrongdoing” or whatever, but it didn’t alleviate the complete weirdness of wiping dried cum off of his flanks with someone staring at him from his kitchen table. Really. What a freak.

Not that the whole apologetic and remorseful posturing wasn’t appreciated, but it really wasn’t necessary. Jorkaal knew what he had been getting into with this cubi-curse shit. This wasn’t his first morning-after first-aide session. He didn’t have a chunk bit out of him and he wasn’t bleeding in the basement, so really, it wasn’t that awful.

As for the other part of the incident, the part where he had clearly witnessed Soo-Hast enjoying Jorkaal’s own pleasure, well that was an interesting thing to think about later. Maybe his interest in the guardian wasn’t all that one sided. Maybe the swan liked him?

Not like Soo-Hast would ever admit that.

When it came down to it, it was a bit of a pathetic hope.

Jorkaal got up slowly, tying his waist-piece back into place, as if modesty was something he really had anymore. It was sort of a gesture on his part. Soo-Hast was cured and obviously working towards becoming his repressed, proper self. 

“Well,” Jorkaal sighed, “wanna get out of here?”

\-  \-  -

They ventured through the back allies of the Inbetween without incident, but even with the curse dispelled, Jorkaal did not want to risk more than a few minutes in the narrow passages. He brought them to a dead end near the temples, where the blessings were too strong for demons to pass.

“Here we are. The Temple of Ranaa and the Temple of Urnom are up the street. There’s a bathhouse across the way.” Jorkaal made a show of looking the guardian up and down. “You could use a wash.”

Soo-Hast rolled his eyes. Jorkaal’s smile widened. He turned to the wall in front of them and began to form the portal. The purity of the area he was depositing the guardian into dulled his skill. The doorway was slow in forming, but after it was created, the swan could walk through it. Clean Jorkaal off his skin. Pray off his sins. Most likely quit his failed crusade.

It was depressing, really. Jorkaal didn’t like the idea of not seeing the guardian again. Horrible fuck ups aside, he was just… engaging. Interesting. Infuriating. “You should be more subtle,” he tried, casting a side-long glance at the swan, “if you want to fight my cousins, that is.”

Soo-Hast looked at him as if he was crazy. Which, considering the events of the past day or so, was maybe a little true. “I thought it proved to be an overall bad idea to contest them at all?”

“Oh no, it’s fun! A little competition to get us off our asses.” The goat gestured widely with one hand, keeping the other on the forming portal. “I would just avoid attempting assault. If they decline your challenge, let well enough alone. If they say yes, then you will have no quarrel within other families. Demons do have some rules of etiquette, you know. Plus, there are older siblings out there who would eat you alive.”

Soo-Hast’s look sobered out, and Jorkaal knew what he was thinking about. He’d of been lying if he said he hadn’t been thinking of it, too.

“What will you do with the Incubus Lord?” The guardian asked, folding his arms in front of his chest. “The children of Cubus will not be happy with you.”

Jorkaal chewed his lip. “I’ll say I stated a claim to you or some shit. I take responsibility for your past mistakes. The Cubi are all about following demon codes of conduct. If I give Harome a good return shot, and give a gift of apology to his sister, we should be square.” That was possibly true. It was also possible that Harome would just do to Jorkaal what he had planned for Soo-Hast, and then some. Jorkaal really didn’t hope so. “Plus, I’m sure they’ll be amused that I received the brunt of the curse.”

Soo-Hast’s gaze softened. Jorkaal snorted. “You worried?”

The concerned look vanished, consumed by annoyance. “Let me out of here.”

Jorkaal held out his hand, and leaned against the gateway. The wall wavered, and opened. “Yes, your Holiness.”

*  *  *

Lekrowse was a beautiful city: full of monsters. It harbored some the most-wretched, brutal bottom-feeders the guardian had ever encountered, and he just couldn’t get enough of them.

He’d decided to raid a bar that evening. The bar in question, Raskat, was a nefarious establishment. He had heard rumors of a fat and happy demon haunting the place, feeding off of the patrons. It warranted an investigation. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could challenge them to a bit of violent fun.

Soo-Hast had a reputation to uphold.

The Raskat was small and grimy and altogether what was expected. There were a considerable amount of people inside it. This would be fun. He entered without much fanfare, sat at the corner of the crowded bar, and got to work.

Convincing mortals to have a shred of self-control when they were already intoxicated was hard work, but he enjoyed the exercise. He picked out the hardest drinkers, the regulars. Soo-Hast dug into their psyche, niggled at their conscious, pulled at the negative effects of their actions. In general, he made them feel like the garbage they were. It only took a few minutes of concentration before one of the worse-off men began to openly cry, throwing his cup to the ground. Another one began to babble about how his wife never deserved what he did to her, and how his stein was filled with poison.

After about ten minutes, he got four people to leave the bar, two of them swearing the drink off forever.

He was having quite the time when there was a burst of copper in his mouth. That was what he was waiting for: acknowledgement.

He felt the air warp at his side when the demon moved into it, dispelling whatever small amount of glamour it had used to hide amongst the men. “That is a very efficient approach,” it said, openly amused, “annoying and completely open-ended. No wonder the family is bitching to me about you.”

Soo-Hast startled. He did not expect what appeared next to him. It had matted hair, a long tail, and several features of domesticated livestock.

“Hey Soo-Hast,” the demon said. He looked positively overjoyed.

“Rotkin Jorkaal.”

The guardian tried his best to not look surprised, but he was failing. His eyebrows refused to lower. The demon winked perversely, and jerked his head towards the door.

“Outside, yeah? These dogs are skittish.” Sure enough, the remaining people in the bar were staring at them in complete horror. If Jorkaal had been inhabiting this bar, he had been doing it under a cloak of glamour. The patrons had been unaware of Jorkaal’s true nature. Soo-Hast was unaware the demon even had the ability to do that.

Jorkaal lead him outside and down an alleyway. “So,” the rotkin said, turning around and eyeing him up, “you slip into a demon’s territory and mess with their subjects. Start a little tug o’ war. Then, if they get agitated, you get them to agree to a physical fight.” The goat chuckled and tapped his horn thoughtfully. “Since they probably start the altercation, you’re in your right to battle them. That’s clever,” he mused, “I like it.”

Soo-Hast folded his arms over his chest, somewhat at a loss. He was not expecting to run into Jorkaal again. It had been several months since he had seen the demon last, and Soo-Hast was no longer picking on lower levels. Jorkaal hadn’t been near the caliber he was hunting for.

Apparently the time did wonders. Jorkaal was not near the bottom rung now, not if he was reading the aura around him correctly. He had moved up in their world.

“You look well,” the guardian observed. It was intensely awkward to say, but it was true. The demon looked firmer, more fleshed out. His skin was swarthy and his eyes were bright. He even looked like he had bathed within the past few weeks. It was astounding.

“I didn’t get much a choice,” the goat said, and Soo-Hast noticed he was missing a tooth, his left canine. “The whole ‘starting a fight with the Cubi’ thing pushed me out of obscurity. Got a lot of attention and help from concerned siblings. That, and you managed to beat me down a little too easily last time. It’s not going to go down like that again.”

Soo-Hast couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. This newfound confidence was intriguing. “You really expect now to be different?”

“I expect now to be more interesting.” That smile looked incredibly similar to a leer. “You’ve been busy yourself. I’ve been hearing a lot about you and your exploits.” The demon’s eyes drifted from Soo-Hast’s face to his body, more importantly, to his left arm. “My cousin Kyroz broke your hand.”

Kyroz didn’t break Soo-Hast’s hand; he’d shattered it. The bone-eating Rotkin had managed to get a good enough grip on Soo-Hast to completely wreck every small bone from the wrist up. It had been his own fault, giving a demon that powerful an opening. The guardian had to stay in the Sepulcher of Heero-Phanin for a week while he knitted back together.

Soo-Hast snorted disdainfully at the memory. It had been an embarrassing defeat. “I suppose he told you that?”

Jorkaal shrugged. “He let me know. All your combatants do. It’s proper to keep me informed on your activities: I claimed a rivalry with you to the Cubi. Word gets around.”

Now there was an interesting subject. “And the Incubus Lord…”

“Was more agreeable after the first few hits,” the demon said, looking uninterested. “He took his toll for my insult.” His tongue poked the gap in his teeth, and Soo-Hast understood. Tooth-pulling was a sign of humility for demons. A canine was considered payment for a grave trespass. Jorkaal wouldn’t grow a tooth back for at least a year: long enough for everyone to see he’d had it pulled. The Incubus Lord was probably wearing it in plain sight, as well. Soo-Hast felt the slightest twinge of guilt.

Jorkaal must have noticed it, because he openly rolled his eyes and changed his stance to something a little more threatening. “Don’t start that, it doesn’t suit you.” A wicked smile spread across his features. “Anyway,” he hummed, tail whipping around behind him, “no permanent damage?”

He was referring to the hand, Soo-Hast realized. The guardian balled his fist and cocked it. “Of course not.”

Jorkaal laughed. “Perfect.”

He attacked.

Soo-Hast noticed the difference in the demon’s strength right away. He also managed to notice it a split second after he got punched in the stomach. The nausea was instant and intense, but he kept control. Jorkaal was much faster, and managed to dodge Soo-Hast’s counter by a few inches.

The guardian wasn’t at all upset by this: this was much better.

Of course, the demon was still going to be defeated, but at least this time, it looked to be a bit more entertaining.

Soo-Hast regained his wits quickly, and blocked the next hit with one arm, bringing the other around with his hand set in a Sign of Blessing. Jorkaal’s eyes bugged in surprise, and the demon readied himself for the impact.

However, at the last moment, Soo-Hast found himself breaking the sign. He let the heel of his palm strike the demon in the chest. Jorkaal coughed, but didn’t start twitching and collapse. The guardian knew how to throw blessings around: that was his main way of winning in his new fights. But, Soo-Hast just didn’t feel like doing that now.

Jorkaal blinked at him, seeming to understand, and the next time Soo-Hast got knocked in the torso, he didn’t feel sick at all.

No god-play. No blessing. No cursing. Nothing but fists and feet and the occasional whap from a tail.

They boxed each other, threw one another into walls. Spun and kicked and blocked and rolled, and although nothing was gentle, nothing was lethal. That’s not what this was about.

Soo-Hast didn’t know what this was about.

Here was a creature he was now connected to. Someone who had both harmed and helped him. Someone who he had wronged and insulted, and who didn’t seem to care. Someone he hated, and, maybe just slightly, liked. It was incredibly strange.

Jorkaal was chuckling as they circled each other, his strange baaing laughter echoing back and forth in the alley, both infuriating and exhilarating. Soo-Hast relished in every hit that landed, every twist and strike that was taken, and returned. It was a perfect dance.

After a while, the guardian finally gained his advantage, and the demon’s horns clacked loudly off of the wall where Soo-Hast pinned him. They were both bleeding slightly, both blooming bruises on their cheeks and knuckles. The sound of their breathing was harsh and in tempo, but everything became still.

He felt high, elated. Jorkaal raised his hands in surrender, but his face was split in a grin. Soo-Hast felt dizzy when he knew he smiled back.

“You know,” Jorkaal panted, relaxed against the wall, “I just need to ask, it’s been killing me: why did you start doing this in the first place? It’s strange, you know: a guardian getting into fist fights with demons.”

Soo-Hast did know, and were this anyone else asking him, he would have denied the answer. But Jorkaal deserved it. 

“I’m Malaeki’s son,” he said, “I was made to be a being of measured control. I don’t feel anger, or greed, or lust, or gluttony. All the things that drive mortals mad. I cannot feel these things.”

Jorkaal’s face showed a sudden understanding. “Except you do.”

Soo-Hast closed his eyes and sighed. “Except I do,” he confirmed. “I feel them every day. It was becoming unbearable.”

“But why fight demons?”

“Anger is the easiest, and I felt justified. Holier.” It felt dirty to say it, knowing now how prideful he had been. “The fights helped. It took the edge off.” He shrugged. “My siblings don’t understand why I’m like this. Guardians don’t know how to handle such… unpleasantness.”

“Well then I am glad to be of service!” Jorkaal said, his voice filled with laughter. Soo-Hast couldn’t hide his snort of amusement. The demon had been much more than that.

Soo-Hast realized he still had the demon pinned, and carefully let up on him, settling his hands against the brick on either side of him. Jorkaal looked oddly at ease for being trapped as he was. The guardian couldn’t help but feel amazed at his cool temper. 

“I realized that I never thanked you for your help,” Soo-Hast said, a bit quieter. “Thank you, Rotkin Jorkaal. You were kind when you had no reason to be.”

Color darkened the demon’s cheeks and he blinked in surprise. “Of course. Couldn’t just leave you there. You’re not the only aberration here. I’m a bit of a piss poor demon,” he admitted with a laugh. “But, well, you’re welcome.”

The smile Soo-Hast received was genuine and sweet, unusual on such a wicked being. It plumped Jorkaal’s tattooed cheeks, crinkled the corners of his dark-lined eyes.

The demon had frightening eyes, Soo-Hast decided. Golden and luminous and dark-lidded, with box pupils blown wide and knowing. They had seen him at his worst. They were seeing him now.

So he closed his own, and leaned forward.

For a moment, there was nothing but warmth underneath his lips, but the moment was short. The demon chuckled lowly against his mouth, and Soo-Hast felt a different heat flush his body. He pulled back, furious.

Why had he done that? What was wrong with him? Of course Jorkaal would laugh, of course this was a stupid, wrong thing to do. Soo-Hast had assaulted this demon, not befriended him. He’d let his control slip again, and now all he had for it was the burn of embarrassment.

The guardian began to push away, but the arms draping over his shoulders were heavy and solid. He did his best to look both disgusted and outraged. It wasn’t working. The demon saw him.

Jorkaal pulled him closer, voice low and amused. “Cursed?” he asked, pressing the question to the guardian’s lips.

“So it seems,” Soo-Hast grumbled, letting the demon wrap his arms fully around his neck. His own hands seemed to have found their way to the demon’s hips. Jorkaal hummed in approval, leaned back into the wall, and pulled them into the space in between.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long series I have been casually working on as a personal project. Let me know what you thought of it.

**Author's Note:**

> These characters have been fun to play with over the years, and I am finally getting around to writing their story. Comments or critiques appreciated. More works will be added to the collection as time goes on, including older illustrations.


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